Yogurt and C-4
by Seraphim25
Summary: Fiona and Michael may have faked their deaths, but there are still plenty of obstacles for them to overcome. How do they get from a river in Miami to sitting by a cozy fire in Ireland, of all places? It won't be easy but with those two it never is. And it is always worth it. Includes Michael/Fi, Charlie, Sam, Jesse, and the Glenanne family
1. Chapter 1

Hi all! After the sad but wonderful final episode of Burn Notice I had to write something to ease the withdrawal. So I wrote a 30,000 word story in a week. I didn't know I had it in me!

Hope you enjoy!

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Fiona's body crashed hard into the water, but all she could feel was the heat from the gigantic explosion behind her and Michael's hand grasping hers. As the water closed in around her head, she struggled towards the surface. She felt Michael pulling her up and a wave of relief washed over her.

They were alive.

When James had pulled out that dead man's switch, a part of her had wanted to wrap herself in Michael's embrace and give in to their fate. But it _couldn't_ be their fate, not after the last seven years, not after all they had accomplished and suffered through together. Not now that he had finally, consciously, chosen her over everything.

And so she had run, her hand attached to Michael's like two opposite charges. They would either make it out together or not at all.

_And we did make it out_, Fiona assured herself, hardly able to believe it.

She turned her attention back to the man whose pull she had only a year ago tried to escape. He was a step ahead of her, and having reached the point where he could stand, scooped Fiona up into his arms and made his way to the beach. Fiona was reminded of another time that her lover had carried her in just this way, years ago just after he had killed his ticket back to his old job, in order to save her life. Looking back, she had to admit that maybe having Michael choose her over everything else wasn't really a surprise at all.

Michael and Fiona finally reached the shore, far enough away from the explosion that they didn't have to worry about law enforcement catching up with them just yet. Michael collapsed from exhaustion, Fiona draped over his body, both breathing heavily. They lay like that, holding each other the way they had longed to on the rooftop after Michael had pulled Fiona up the side of the building when her climbing gear had failed.

Michael had risked his own life to save her that day. Not only had he performed a superhuman feat by pulling both her and his own weight up ten stories, but his rope could have easily snapped under their combined weight, sending him along on a deadly fall that was meant only for her.

Lying in his arms, thinking of how much she owed to the man beneath her, she couldn't believe she had tried to settle for anyone else. She had thought she could move on, but she had only proved once again that she couldn't put anyone before the love of her life.

Fiona felt Michael beginning to sit up, and managed to roll of of him, not fully recovered from the running and swimming that had saved their lives.

She looked up into the blue eyes that she knew so well, and once again said a prayer of thanks that they were alive.

"We're dead." Michael said, a smile creeping slowly across his face.

Fiona sat up quickly and looked at her surroundings, then back at Michael. "Do you know something I don't?" she asked cautiously.

"I mean, everyone _thinks_ we're dead." Michael clarified.

Fiona rested her head against Michael's wet chest. "I suppose they do, but as soon as they see us breathing I think they'll figure out we're not."

"This is our chance." Michael was grinning now.

"You mean _your_ chance," Fiona gritted out, "to go back to your CIA job." She began to extricate herself from Michael's now stifling embrace.

"No," Michael continued, looking at her a bit shyly, "I mean _our_ chance, to start over, somewhere else...together."

Fiona stared up at him, her jaw slack, not yet daring to believe what she heard.

"If you want," Michael hastened to add, "I just thought, now that everything's over, you might want to - but if you don't -"

Fiona cut him off with a hard kiss. "Of course I want to run away with you Michael, that's all I've wanted since our first dance." She looked down at her fingers which she was twisting anxiously. "But how do I know you mean it this time? I can't survive losing you again."

"Fi, look at me." Michael tilted her chin until her eyes met his own. "I've always wanted to be with you, I just couldn't before, because there were so many threats on my life, _both_ our lives. But soon everyone will think we're dead. _This_ is what I've been fighting for. Are you with me?" Michael had put his entire future in Fiona's hands. All he could do was wait for her to crush him, or save him one last time.

Tears streamed down Fiona's face, and she couldn't do anything but nod her assent and fall into Michael's arms once again. Michael could barely contain his smile. Suddenly his face fell as he remembered something, _someone_.

"Charlie!" he exclaimed. "What do I do about Charlie? He's my responsibility now."

Fiona looked at him incredulously. "Well, I don't know what _you're_ going to do, but _I'm_ going to get my nephew and take him with me wherever I go."

Michael hadn't thought he could love the woman before him any more, but he had been wrong.

"Fi," he breathed out, "will you really - do you think we can - raise him?" He could barely believe those words had come out of his mouth.

Fiona raised her eyebrows. "It's not about what we _can_ do, Michael, it's what we _will_ do. We are all Charlie has left and we will not abandon him."

"What about Ruby? What if she gets clean and wants him back. We can't take him away from his mother."

Fiona looked at Michael sadly. "You missed a lot these past few months, Michael. _Ruth_ won't be asking for her son. It turns out she never did much parenting. I think Nate was the only one who took care of Charlie. Once Nate died, Ruth used to leave Charlie at his daycare for days at a time. The daycare provider said that she would have refused to take him, but she was afraid what would happen if she didn't. Ruth never once tried to get custody of Charlie, and refused to visit when Madeline offered."

"Oh." Michael was overwhelmed with the information and felt guilty that he hadn't been keeping better track of the goings on in his own family.

Fiona, reading the guilt in his eyes entwined her fingers with his once again and reassured him. "You had a tough year, we all did. Let's just focus on getting Charlie and ourselves out of the country and you can make it up to us after we're all safe."

Michael gave a short nod and stood, pulling Fiona to her feet as well. The former spy and his girlfriend walked hand-in-hand to a nearby parking lot where they hot-wired an old forest green sedan. They drove to the pre-planned meet up point, an abandoned boat house three miles away, trying not to dwell on who would be missing.

When they arrived, they were relieved to see Sam opening the door for them, his eyes red and teary, looking at them as if they were ghosts.

"Mike? Fi? You made it!" He gave both of his friends huge hugs, his body nearly shaking with the shock of seeing people he believed to have died.

"When I saw the building blow I thought for sure you were gone."

"After all these years you still doubt my abilities," Fiona said loftily but with a twinkle in her eye.

"Have you heard from Jesse?" Michael asked anxiously.

Sam's face fell and he shook his head. "No word yet, but I don't think he'll risk calling after our phones were tracked. James may be dead, but there are other people out there who support him, who knows who might take over the organization. What's the next move, Mikey?"

Fiona's head shot up, glaring daggers at her boyfriend. Michael put a hand on her shoulder appeasingly and answered Sam with one word, "Nothing."

"Nothing Mike? You mean, you're done? Finally?"

Michael smiled softly at Fiona, letting her explain.

"Michael and I are going to take Charlie out of the country." She barreled on despite Sam's look of shock. "Everyone will think we died in the explosion that James set off, and you and Jesse can claim that Charlie was lost in the explosion at the safe house."

"Do you feel comfortable lying for us Sam?" Michael asked. "I don't know how much trouble the CIA will give you, but considering you helped take down James, I think you and Jesse will be fine."

Sam smirked. "I've done a hell of a lot worse for you, brother."

"So you'll help us fake our deaths?" Fiona asked, grinning.

Sam answered with a smile. "I thought you'd never ask."

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The next ten minutes were spent planning out the logistics of getting two adults and a child, who were supposed to be dead, out of the country without raising any red flags. They figured their best bet would be to drive up north where no one would know them, and try to pay someone off to transport them under the radar.

Just then there were three rapid knocks on the door and Jesse walked in, carrying Charlie on one arm and an overstuffed duffle bag on the other. Charlie looked like he had fallen asleep in the car, but as soon as he saw Michael he was wide awake and smiling.

"Uncle Michael!" he shouted, running over for a hug. Michael swept the little boy up in his arms, trying to hold in his tears.

"Where's Grandma?" Charlie cut right to the chase. Michael's breath caught and he looked towards Fiona, unable to speak.

"She's in Heaven, Charlie. She saved us all and now she's in Heaven." Fiona felt her cheeks becoming wet with tears.

"Daddy's in Heaven. Did Grandma go to visit Daddy?" Michael nodded and hugged Charlie again.

"Will she be back for my birthday party?" Charlie asked with hope in his eyes. He had to wait a minute for an answer, as none of the adults around him seemed to know what to say. Jesse finally brushed away a tear and spoke.

"No, Charlie. Grandma has to stay in Heaven. But she'll watch over you, and you can talk to her whenever you like." The rest of the team gave Jesse grateful looks. Having lost his mother early in life, he was perhaps best qualified to explain things to Charlie.

Charlie looked thoughtful for a moment, then said, "Am I gonna live at Heaven now too?" Fiona sucked in a breath, glancing at Michael. _What if Charlie didn't want to live with them?_

"No Charlie, you're going to live with me and Fiona. Is that okay?" Charlie smiled and nodded and both Michael and Fiona breathed a sigh of relief.

"I'm hungry!" Charlie announced to the room, jumping down from his uncle's arms. "Can we have hot dogs tonight?" Michael and Fiona looked at each other, then at Jesse who was already shuffling around in the large bag.

"Uh, looks like we have Goldfish, applesauce, a couple bananas, graham crackers, and, um, five milk boxes."

"Milk boxes," repeated Fiona, "won't those spoil?"

"Nope, I had one myself when we were at the safe house. They're nonperishable."

Michael turned his attention back to his nephew. "Do you want any of that stuff?" he asked doubtfully.

"I want Goldfish and Graham crackers."

"How do you ask?" Sam interrupted.

"Please?" added Charlie. The other adults in the room turned towards Sam, impressed with his parenting skills.

"Maddie always used to make him use his manners," he said shrugging. Fiona made a mental note to remember and use all of the parenting techniques she had observed during her weekly visits to Madeline's house.

Once Charlie was settled in front of his makeshift dinner, Sam announced that it would be wise for Jesse and himself to leave, so they could deal with the fallout from the day.

"Do you still have your fake IDs from last year?" he asked Michael.

"They're in the loft in a portable safe. It's hidden behind a false back in the cabinet under the sink," Michael informed him.

"Great, I'll go to the loft now. Be back for you in an hour Jess?"

"Why don't you let me go Sam? It'll give you a chance to say goodbye. Besides, you'd be too tempted to pick up beer on the way back." Jesse tried to lighten the mood as he headed out the door.

Sam turned to face his two best friends, trying to ignore the painful lump in his throat. Michael was the first to speak.

"Is there anything I can do for you Sam? I doubt the CIA will go easy on you and Jesse. You can come along with us." Fiona nodded her agreement.

"Thanks," Sam responded, "but I don't want to leave Elsa. And if we disappear at the same time you supposedly died, it'll look pretty suspicious. Jesse and I will be fine, don't worry."

Michael didn't look entirely convinced. Fiona seemed to sense this and turned to look into his eyes before speaking in a calm tone.

"You can't solve every problem, Michael." She seemed prepared to go on, but Michael cut her off.

"I know Fi," he said quickly. "I'm done fighting. I have what I want now and I'm not risking it, ever again." He took her hand in his and smiled at the surprised but pleased look on her face. They walked over to the table, where Charlie was finishing up the snacks that were serving as his dinner.

"Can we color?" Charlie asked.

"Sure thing, Charlie," replied Sam. He went over to the bag to retrieve the crayons and coloring books as Michael and Fiona settled in chairs at the rickety old table.

"I'm gonna make a picture for Grandma," said Charlie, starting to color in a picture of a Triceratops.

Michael, Fiona, and Sam sat watching the little boy color, helping occasionally when asked, but mostly enjoying each other's company.

When Jesse walked through the door a half hour later with a small safe and an armful of Michael and Fiona's clothing, Charlie was just starting to rub his eyes and yawn.

"I think it's time for you to go to bed Charlie, suggested Fiona gently. "Why don't you say goodbye to Mr. Sam and Mr. Jesse. You're not going to see them for a long time."

"Do I get to sleep on the couch? Grandma always lets me."

"Sure," said Fiona. "Now say goodbye, sweetie."

Charlie did as he was told and gave both Sam and Jesse big hugs. Michael walked Charlie over to the couch and lay a blanket over him. Then he followed his friends to the front door of the beach house.

"Well, I guess this is it," Sam said, his voice cracking. Jesse swallowed hard.

"Let's not say goodbye." said Fiona, "How about, see you soon?"

"Works for me, sister."

"We'll see you soon," repeated Jesse.

"As soon as it's safe to contact you we will, I promise." Michael added. "It might take a while, but eventually this will all blow over and we won't have to worry about anyone looking for us."

The team stood in silence for a moment, until Michael spoke again. "I want to thank all of you for everything you've done for me over the years. I never meant for it to be your battle..."

"Say no more Mike." Jesse said, knowing Michael was struggling through his speech. "We were fighting for a good cause, and I don't regret it."

Sam nodded his agreement and reached out to give Michael a bear hug and a pat on the back. "You have my numbers, call if you need anything." He then turned to hug Fiona; Jesse followed suite. Finally, with red-rimmed eyes, Sam and Jesse walked out the door.

Fiona let out a small sob, and Michael embraced her tightly. After the tears slowed to a stop Michael began to set up a makeshift bed on the floor in the living room. He dragged an old mattress from one of the bedrooms and draped it in dusty sheets he found in the linen closet. Then he moved to stand beside Fiona, who was watching Charlie sleep.

"Do you think we can do this?" she asked softly. Michael looked at her, concerned.

"This isn't your responsibility Fi. I'm sure I could manage by myself. You should live your own life, don't worry about me." His voice was thick with obvious emotional pain.

The pain turned physical as Fiona grabbed him by the arm and yanked him into the adjacent bedroom. From the look in her eyes he assumed it was because she was worried Charlie might wake up when she was in the middle of murdering his uncle. Michael began to raise his hands in self-defense, expecting a blow. Instead, she spoke in a dangerously low voice.

"After all these years you still don't get it. We are in this _together_. When have I ever left you on your own? I tried, God knows I tried. This past year I tried harder than ever before, but I still couldn't walk away. I couldn't choose anyone over you, and I'm done trying. I'm in this no matter what." She turned to storm out of the room but Michael caught her upper arm and stopped her.

"Fi, I'm sorry I just - it sounded like you were having doubts about raising Charlie, and I didn't want to force you into anything."

Fiona's face softened but her voice was still firm. "I was there for Charlie from the day he was moved to Miami. Sometimes it hurt to look at him, because he reminded me of you. But I never turned my back on him and I won't start now. Charlie is ours now, and don't ever question that again."

Michael felt humbled. He knew he didn't deserve Fiona, but he swore to himself that he would spend the rest of his life trying to earn the love that she gave him so freely.

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Later that night, Fiona woke to a strange noise coming from behind her head. She was still wrapped tightly in Michael's arms, as she had been when she had gone to sleep, but for some reason the body behind her was shaking. She heard the noise again and this time realized that it was a sob. She wiggled herself around so that she was facing Michael and gasped when she saw tears streaming down his face. Michael was sobbing harder than she had ever seen him before, harder than when he had visited her in prison and even after Nate had died.

He tried to hide his face from her but she cupped his cheek in her hand, peppering kisses all over his wet face. When he had gained a bit of control over his emotions she said simply, "Your mom?" He hesitated for a split second before nodding an affirmative.

"I miss her too. She was the strongest woman I've ever known." Michael nodded and shed a couple more tears.

"But there's something else going on with you, isn't there?"

Michael still didn't speak but the look on his face said it all. He was looking at Fiona with the most guilt-ridden expression she had ever seen. And his trembling hands held her waist gently but firmly, as if he were afraid she would turn to smoke if he let go.

"You're thinking about the roof." It wasn't a question. Michael's head fell in shame and she swore she could feel the regret radiating off his body.

"I already told you, you saved me, end of story."

"But I almost didn't. Why didn't I pull the trigger sooner? If you had died..." He couldn't go on.

Fiona sighed. She was getting tired of Michael's pity parties, but she understood his need for reassurance after the tumultuous year they had all experienced.

"I won't pretend to know what was going through your head Michael, but I think you were probably seduced by James and his entire organization. And I can't say I blame you, he offered you power, money, Sonya...everything."

"YOU are everything. I'll never forgive myself for doubting it, even for a second."

Fiona stared pointedly into his eyes. "I forgive you, Michael. We were both guilty of doubting our relationship this past year. I don't know about you, but I will never make that mistake again."

"Me neither Fi."

"That's right you won't, because if you do I'll kick your ass."

As the couple drifted off to sleep, Michael felt the boulder of guilt on his chest lighten just a bit.

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Thanks for reading, please review!


	2. Chapter 2

Here is the next chapter. Thank you to everyone who reviewed, I really appreciate the feedback. And as always thank you so much to everyone who read.

I just want to mention that I complete my stories before I post them. So although I still have to split up the chapters and put on the finishing touches, you don't have to worry about being left hanging! Enjoy!

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The next morning Michael and Fiona were startled awake by their nephew, who was bouncing on the mattress cheerily, asking if he could watch cartoons. Michael grabbed Charlie and led him into the kitchen before he could wake Fiona, who had mumbled something about C4 and burrowed deeper under the covers.

The day before, Michael had noticed an old tv set with a VCR attached located on the kitchen table. He found a few VHS tapes in a cupboard and was overjoyed to see that a couple of them were children's movies. Charlie decided he wanted to watch Peter Pan, so Michael blew the dust off of the tape and pushed it into the slot. The picture was fuzzy, but Charlie didn't seem to mind. Michael sat on the chair next to Charlie's and watched for a few minutes, until he felt his stomach begin to churn, protesting at being left empty. Neither he nor Fiona had eaten anything since the previous morning, having had more pressing matters. Now however, his hunger was catching up with him, and he decided to go discuss their breakfast options with Fiona.

Michael's girlfriend was still asleep when he entered the living room, and so he sat by her side, stroking her hair until she began to stir. He couldn't help it, he had missed her so much. He wanted nothing more than to sit and stare at her for as long as she would allow, but he knew that all three of them could use a hearty breakfast.

"G'morning, Michael." Fiona said with a stretch and a yawn. "Where's Charlie?" She asked, noticing that the couch was unoccupied.

"He's watching a movie in the kitchen," Michael assured her. "I was thinking that we should get some breakfast." Michael continued. "Charlie hasn't had any real food since we went on the run, and I'm starving."

"Do you think it's safe for us to go anywhere? Our faces were plastered all over the news yesterday."

"I don't know," Michael replied, "but we can't live on Goldfish and bananas for much longer."

Fiona thought for a moment. "I think we passed a Dunkin' Donuts on the way here. If it has a drive thru then that's probably our best bet. We can wear hats and sunglasses to be safe."

"Works for me," agreed Michael, but I'll go and you stay here with Charlie.

Fiona opened her mouth to protest but Michael spoke first. "I'm sure it will be fine, but I need to know that you and Charlie are safe. Besides, we're more likely to be recognized if we're together."

Fiona had to admit that he had a point, so instead of arguing she helped Michael put on his simple disguise, kissed him goodbye, and went into the kitchen to check on Charlie.

Michael returned within the hour, with a couple of donuts and muffins as well as some coffee and juice. The three dug in and quickly finished their meal. Charlie soon left the table to go play with the few toys he had left.

Michael motioned for Fiona to follow him to the couch and the two sat side by side.

"So where do you think we should go Fi? Wherever it is, we have to leave soon. We can go anywhere you like."

Fiona pursed her lips in thought. "Hmmm...well I'd like to go somewhere in Europe. Maybe Greece or Italy."

Michael considered her suggestions for a moment. "I don't think either of those places is exactly right for us."

"Well where is exactly right for us, besides...well, we can't go there." Fiona looked lost in memories.

"Why not?" Michael asked, immediately knowing what she was thinking. "Why can't we move to Ireland? It's where we met, fell in love. I'd love for Charlie to grow up in a place that means so much to us."

Fiona looked shocked. "Michael, you've been outed as an American spy and everyone knows we were together. Setting foot in Dublin would be suicide for either of us. We can't bring Charlie into that!"

"I didn't say we should live in Dublin. We could find a quiet village, where no one's ever heard the name Westen or Glenanne. We can keep to ourselves and build our covers, so by the time Charlie enters school no one will have any suspicions about who we are or where we came from."

Fiona's face began to brighten. She hardly dared to believe what she was hearing. "Do you really think it could work? Just us, living in Ireland. It sounds too good to be true. What would we do for work? Could you really give up being a spy?"

"I think we've both lived through enough turmoil that settling down will be a relief. Besides, I'm sure there are people in Ireland who will require our services, if we want to take some jobs."

"Wow," breathed Fiona. "Is this really happening?"

"I think so." Michael confirmed. "Why don't you write a letter to your mother, let her know that we're alive and coming to Ireland. We won't be able to visit, but I don't want her think you're dead."

"I will. You know, when I was planning on going back home a few years ago Sam gave me he number of a buddy of his who could sneak me aboard his private plane and get me out of the country. I still have his number. It'll be expensive, but that's probably our best bet."

"Does he know who we are? We can't risk anyone identifying us."

"No," Fi assured. "and he's up in Boston so I doubt he'd have seen our faces on the news."

Michael nodded.

"Are we really doing this?" Fiona straight into Michael's eyes, placing a hand over his heart.

"Yeah Fi, we are."

"Let's leave today. I can find a car for us to borrow, and we can be in Boston by tomorrow afternoon."

"I'll get Charlie ready," offered Michael. "See you in twenty?"

Michael nodded and Fiona left, excited to start their journey home.

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Eight hours, two 'borrowed' cars, and one gas station later, Fiona was driving down the highway with only two sleeping Westens to keep her company. The newly formed family of three had piled into the car to begin their long journey after stopping by three different storage units in which Michael and Fiona had been keeping most of the cash they had saved up over the past seven years. It was by no means a fortune, but it would be enough to bribe Sam's pilot buddy and rent a place in Ireland for a few months.

Fiona took advantage of the silent car to remember the whirlwind that she had been caught up in for the past several years. When she had first arrived in Miami, she had convinced herself it was to get some closure over the man who had left her heartbroken years before. It hadn't taken more than watching him sleep for a few hours for her to decide that she wanted to stay by his side for the foreseeable future.

It hadn't been hard for them to fall back into their old rhythm. They fought bad guys and each other, slept together and spent most of their time together, for better or worse. He left her time and time again, but every time she swore to extricate herself from his pull, something happened to bring them closer than ever before.

She had stood by his side, fought for him, gone to jail for him, even been prepared to die with him. Then, when she had finally thought that they would be together without the CIA looming in the background, he had left her for what she swore would be the last time.

The thought of that particular betrayal still made her blood run cold. She had told herself that she was done. Michael was gone, and she would no longer let the idea of him prevent her from finding her own happiness. Though her grief and pain had been stifling, she had managed to find a man who wanted to be with her as much as she wanted to be with him. She found a man who wanted nothing more than to fight alongside her during the day and take her out to dinner at night. Carlos may not have been a super-spy, but he loved Fiona and showed it.

And Fiona was more frustrated than she had ever been because she had a man who was everything she had always wanted, but he wasn't the _right_ man. When Carlos held her hand she didn't feel a warm tingle in her fingers. When he kissed her she didn't forget all her problems. And when he lay beside her in bed, she did not feel as though the bond connecting them was stronger than any force of nature.

Even nine months after Michael had walked all too willingly into the CIA's clutches it was _his_ body she reached for after a bad dream and _his_ name that echoed in her head when all other sounds had ceased.

Carlos had tried to understand. She had let him move in with her only three months after meeting him. His landlord was selling the building and she had thought that her new boyfriend could chase the spirit of her former lover from her house and mind.

She had lived and worked well with Carlos and for a moment she thought that maybe she could love him. Not the all encompassing, passionate love that she felt towards Michael. She couldn't fool herself into thinking that she would ever have the urge to walk hand-in-hand to face death with Carlos. But she was comfortable with him and as happy as she needed to be. That is, until Michael had reclaimed his rightful place in her heart with the words, _It's time to be brave little angel_, and a hailstorm of bullets. She had kissed both Carlos and Michael that day, but only one man's stare had set her soul ablaze with emotions; and she had walked calmly away from him. She didn't regret not running into his arms that day. The pull was strong, but he had nearly destroyed her with his empty promises and she refused to give him an ounce more of her soul than he had already commandeered.

As the weeks passed, she managed to keep a safe distance. But soon she was faced with no choice but to work with her ex-boyfriend, and in no time at all she was lying to Carlos and sneaking around with Michael as if she were having an affair. And she had to admit that she was. Not a physical affair, but an emotional one. So when Carlos had finally accepted defeat she wasn't surprised. She had asked him to stay and even tossed in an _I love you_, but it wasn't enough. Carlos, like Campbell before him, had learned the hard way that Fiona Glenanne already had a boyfriend, and his name was Michael Westen. And so Carlos had left Fiona to follow her heart into the mouth of hell and Fiona had cried over her inability to choose anyone over the man who could destroy her.

_And he almost did destroy me, literally_, Fiona reminded herself. _If he had decided that he'd rather have free reign to do anything he wanted with the support of a powerful organization and a beautiful woman, than save the life of someone who had all but turned her back on him, then I wouldn't be alive right now._

Michael suddenly let out a grunt and awoke, leading Fiona to wonder if he had sensed her strong emotions. He stretched and turned towards her. "Why don't you let me drive for a while; you look tired."

Fiona nodded gratefully and pulled over at the next rest stop.

Fiona thought that she would fall asleep as soon as Michael began driving, but fifteen minutes later she was still lying awake on her side, unable to take her eyes off of the man beside her. Noticing her stare, he moved his right hand from the steering wheel and placed it on her thigh. Warmth spread up Fiona's body straight to her heart, which she felt would burst open if she didn't say-

"I love you."

Michael simply smiled and gave her leg a gentle squeeze.

She had never heard him say those three words to anyone but his mother, and even that had been a rare occurrence. He hadn't confessed his love as Michael McBride, which she had attributed to the fact that they were in a war zone and love was a weakness that could be exploited all too easily.

When she arrived in Miami, they had fallen into the same habits, and neither had said the words explicitly until Fiona was faced with possible life in prison.

The only time Fiona could even remember Michael saying the word love to her was when he was explaining why things didn't work between him and his former fiancé. Fiona couldn't help but wonder if he had ever said the words to the attractive brunette.

Feeling a familiar twinge of jealousy, Fiona couldn't help but call him out on his commitment issues.

"I know you refuse to say it to me, but promise me you'll say it to Charlie." Michael didn't bother to feign ignorance.

"Of course I'll say it to him," he insisted. "He's my nephew."

"Oh, I didn't realize that only blood relatives were allowed that honor."

Fiona was nearly as taken aback as Michael at her sudden burst of snark. She decided to blame it on her lack of sleep. She cursed herself however when she saw his already guilty face intensify.

"Fi, you should know I - it's not that I don't -" but Fiona cut him off.

"I don't want you to feel like you have to say it. I know how you feel. Please, just - I don't want to talk about this anymore," she finished with a sigh.

Michael remained quiet for a moment, focusing on the road. Then, just as she was closing her eyes, she heard him speak. "Fi, I..." He trailed off but she knew what he meant.

"I know, Michael," she whispered. She wrapped his hand in her own and was finally able to drift off to sleep.

Approximately fifteen hours later the small group arrived in Boston. Fiona had gotten in touch with Sam's buddy first thing in the morning. The pilot had been reluctant to take three strangers across the Atlantic, and Fiona couldn't tell him she knew Sam for fear of their true identities being discovered, but a few thousand dollars later they had reached a deal. The pilot, Clay, would be flying to Europe to sell some 'products' in two days. He agreed to drop them off in Ireland on the way, no questions asked by either party. Michael and Fiona agreed that this was their best chance, and so they decided to lay low in a motel in Cambridge for the next couple of days.

Back when it was just the two of them, laying low had meant staying in whatever modest room they had rented, planning their next move, and generally being as forgettable as possible. Laying low with a three-year-old however, proved to be a nearly impossible task. They had to make sure that there was food around every three hours, and entertaining Charlie cut into whatever planning time they had hoped to have. He had far too much energy to be cooped up in a small room all day, but whenever they went for a walk around the motel strangers would make comments about how sweet the little boy was and what a nice family they were. None of the people were ostensibly threatening, but after being a spy for so long, Michael couldn't help but worry about their ulterior motives.

The first night that the three spent in the motel, Michael awoke to Charlie's soft voice saying, "Uncle Michael, I peed."

"In the toilet?" asked Michael, hoping that was what the boy meant but sensing it was not. Charlie shook his head and pointed to the pile of blankets and pillows on the floor that was serving as his bed.

Michael sighed and nudged Fiona awake. "Umm Fi? Where should I put stuff with pee on it?" Fiona looked at him incredulously then, spotting Charlie's wet pajamas, hung her head and sighed.

"I forgot that Charlie still wears pull-ups at night. Just throw the wet things in the corner and I'll see if there are any pull-ups in the bag."

With a huge sigh of relief, Fiona pulled the nighttime underwear from the bag, along with another pair of Charlie's pajamas. She helped Michael dress the boy, and they got back into bed, with Charlie snuggled between them.

On the following day, Charlie was even more rambunctious than the day before. He had clearly had enough of being cooped up with his aunt and uncle, who were at a loss of how to keep him busy. Finally Fiona made a suggestion to Michael.

"Why don't we take him to the park? I saw one on our way here."

"It's too dangerous Fi. We might be recognized."

"Do you really want to spend the next - "she looked at her watch - "ten hours trying to convince him that coloring is more fun than jumping on the bed?"

Michael looked unconvinced until one of Charlie's sneakers whizzed by, narrowly missing his nose. "Good idea, let's go."

When they first arrived at the park, Michael was finding it nearly impossible to relax. Every cell phone he saw looked like a gun, and every stroller seemed to be a good place to hide a bomb. Soon however, he found himself so busy cheering for Charlie as he went down the slide and lifting him up so he could reach the monkey bars, that he didn't have time to analyze every stranger who walked by.

After Charlie had announced he was hungry and ready to leave the park, Michael and Fiona walked with him to a nearby cafe, where they ordered sandwiches and potato chips to go.

Walking back to their motel room, Michael noticed that Fiona had suddenly become quiet. "What are you thinking about Fi?" he asked, concern in his eyes.

"I'm just wondering what Sam and Jesse are doing right now. I hope Strong isn't being too hard on them. I'd hate to think that we left them to be blamed for our mistakes."

"You mean _my_ mistakes." Michael sighed then continued. "I don't think Strong will give them much trouble. With that hard drive they have a lot of leverage. They essentially saved his career so he owes them. Not to mention how much the CIA owes them for helping take down a terrorist ring. I bet Sam's sitting by the pool drinking a mojito right now."

Fiona smiled wistfully. "I hope you're right."

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One extra perk that came with taking Charlie to the park was that he fell asleep earlier than he had the day before. Deciding to take full advantage of this, Michael and Fiona sat quietly on the couch together, commenting on what they might do when they arrived in Ireland and exchanging an occasional sweet kiss.

Finally, Fiona decided to bring up a subject that had been bothering her a bit over the past couple of days.

"Michael,"she began, turning to sit cross-legged and face him, "I like my name."

Michael looked understandably confused, but tried to form an appropriate response. "Um, I like your name too Fi."

"And I like calling you Michael."

Michael almost chuckled. "You can call me Michael, Fi."

"Can I? She raised her eyebrows. "It's not the name on your passport or driver's license or birth certificate."

Michael finally understood what she was saying.

"I know we have to change our identities, and it's far too dangerous to use our real last names, but could we keep our first names?" She looked at him hopefully. "Michael and Fiona aren't unusual names in Ireland."

Michael bit his lower lip and took a moment to think things over. The safest thing for them to do would be to change their identities completely. But Fiona was right, there were plenty of Michaels and Fionas in Ireland. And if he was honest with himself, he couldn't imagine letting any name but Fiona escape from his lips in a moment of passion, be it ecstasy or anger.

"Okay, Fi. When we have our new IDs made in Ireland we'll be Michael and Fiona and Charlie. But we do have to use different surnames."

"Too bad Finley is already taken." Fiona smiled.

Suddenly Michael's eyes lit up. "What about Finn? It's Irish, easy to remember, and Sam would be flattered."

Fiona took a moment to consider. "I like it," she confirmed. Then she smiled coyly. "Does this mean our covers are married, Michael?"

She had expected him to splutter out some weak retort, and so could hardly believe his next words.

"It's not a cover Fi. It's our life. I mean, if you wanT to make it official..." He trailed off leaving Fiona room to voice her opinion on the subject.

"We've always been family, Michael. I don't need a piece of paper to prove it."

"I know, Fi. But, maybe we could have a small ceremony once we're settled in Ireland. Just you, me, a priest, Charlie, and Sam and Jesse if they can make it. I want Charlie to have the kind of family Nate and I didn't."

Fiona nodded in understanding, deciding to voice the thought that Michael hadn't. "I wish your mom could be there. She always supported us. She'd be so pleased to see us finally settling down."

Michael's eyes filled with tears, but he smiled and nodded. Fiona held him close and soon her tears mixed with his. The two fell asleep that way, remembering the woman to whom they owed their lives.

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	3. Chapter 3

Thank you all for the great feedback! Here is the next chapter. Enjoy!

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The next day was filled with packing and planning. Michael and Fiona explained to Charlie that they would be going on a big noisy airplane, and that he would have to be on his best behavior. Charlie, excited about getting to ride in any large vehicle, was practically bouncing off the walls, making it that much harder for Michael and Fiona to get their things together. By noontime they had finally found the last of Charlie's hot wheels - which had fallen behind the TV stand - and the three headed out the door to drive their latest 'borrowed' car to the airfield from which they were to leave.

They found Clay without much trouble, and packed their things alongside some unassuming packages which probably contained drugs or stolen goods. As promised, they asked no questions and secured Charlie in the booster seat they had brought along. Michael and Fiona sat in the two seats in front of him, placing themselves protectively between the boy and he pilot. Michael checked and double checked that he had their temporary identities, then signaled to Clay that they were ready to leave.

The majority of the flight was uneventful. Charlie was well entertained between the books, toys, and portable DVD player that Madeline had packed in the overstuffed duffle bag.

As night approached however, and Charlie had finished his dinner of peanut butter and jelly and milk, he began to whine that he wanted to go home. Michael felt panic rise in his chest when Charlie's whining intensified to a full cry. He looked toward Fiona and saw that she was as taken aback as he was. Clay didn't help matters by yelling over the noise of the engines, "Will you shut that kid up!"

Fiona looked at the pilot with malice in her eyes, but Michael placed a hand on her shoulder and she turned around to walk towards Charlie instead.

Placing her arms around the boy, she rocked back and forth with him, humming an Irish melody in his ear. His crying soon faded into soft whimpers and he eventually fell asleep. When she was sure he was in a deep sleep, Fiona removed her arm from her nephew and placed his favorite blanket over him. She returned to her place beside Michael and let out a sigh of relief, pretending not to notice the look of adoration and pride on the man's face.

"You did it Fi." He whispered.

"It wasn't so hard," she said modestly.

"What would I do without you?"

"You'd be dead, and so would I," she said matter-of-factly.

Michael frowned slightly at her choice of words but nodded nonetheless. He knew as well as she did that it was the truth.

Fiona was gazing out window of the airplane when Clay spoke for the first time since Charlie had fallen asleep.

"There's been a change of plans. My pal in England needs his delivery tonight. We'll have to stop there first and I'll take you to Ireland after that." Noticing the sudden look of rage on Michael's face, he quickly added, "Don't worry, I'll still have you there by morning."

Michael's face did not soften and he was close to pulling out the gun he had tucked behind his back when Fiona spoke. "That will be perfectly fine," then under her breath, "won't it, Michael?"

Michael leaned in close. "It's not fine, Fiona. Who knows who we might meet up with. We are not spending even a minute in British territory!"

"It doesn't look like we have much choice, do we? Unless you want to take him out and land the plane yourself, but I don't think you've brushed up on your piloting skills recently!" Michael still looked troubled. "It's sweet of you to worry about me, but I'll be fine. Chances are we won't meet up with anyone dangerous in the few hours we'll be there." Michael could do nothing but hope that she was correct.

By the time the plane had landed it was nearly midnight local time. They hot-wired a car for the eighth time in three days, and drove around until they found a seedy-looking motel that was still open, the vacancy sign flickering in an off-putting way. Michael paid for the room, relieved that the manager agreed to accept his American dollars. He got the key and opened the door for Fiona, who was carrying a sleeping Charlie.

"This was the only room left," Michael informed her when she raised her eyebrows at the cramped quarters. A twin bed and a love seat were the sole items of furniture in the room.

Fiona sighed, "Why don't you take the bed with Charlie and I'll sleep here," she motioned towards the love seat. "And don't get all chivalrous...you wouldn't fit on this thing and I don't want Charlie to sleep on it; it's lumpy and disgusting."

After changing Charlie into his pull-up and pajamas, all three lay down to go to sleep. Just before Fiona drifted off, she peeked at Michael and Charlie, marveling at what a good uncle Michael had become in such a short time. She couldn't believe that only four days earlier she had been risking her life to save that man from himself. She forced the memories of that day out of her mind and finally fell asleep.

Several hours later, in the dark hours of early morning, Michael was awoken by a shrill shriek that nearly made him jump out of his skin.

He scrambled out of bed, trying to get his bearings and figure out where the screaming was coming from. As his eyes adjusted to the lack of light, he saw Fiona sitting up on the small couch, screaming what he now recognized was his name. She looked terrified, and he quickly scanned the room, trying to find the source of her panic. Seeing nothing out of the ordinary, Michael moved closer to her and moved his face into her line of sight. When she didn't acknowledge his presence, Michael realized she must be having a night terror. He had seen more than a few soldiers suffer from them during his time in the Middle East.

Fiona had finally stopped screaming bloody murder, but was now shaking and sweating. Michael did the only thing he could think of, which was press his heart against her racing one and whisper words of comfort into her ear. He glanced over at his nephew, relieved to see that he was still sleeping soundly.

Soon Fiona began to wake from her nightmare, and Michael looked into her eyes, watching as she put together the pieces of what had happened.

"Are you okay Fi?" he asked gently, still rubbing her back. Fiona nodded but avoided eye contact.

"Where were you just then?" Fiona shook her head, indicating that she didn't want to talk about it. "You were screaming my name, you were so scared..."

As Michael thought back over the events of the past week there were so many things that could have triggered a night terror in anyone. However, Michael could only think of one moment that was horrible enough to terrify someone as strong as his girlfriend.

"You were back on the roof, weren't you?" he asked, already hating himself.

Fiona didn't answer, but Michael knew he had guessed correctly when tears started streaming down her face and loud sobs forced their way from her lungs. He hadn't seen her cry that uncontrollably since he had told her he was rejoining the CIA.

Michael was at a loss of what to do. He wanted to hold her until the tears subsided, but he didn't dare, since he was the source of her anguish. Instead, he sat beside her, staring at a cigarette burn on the arm of the couch, until she regained control of her emotions.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be so weak. It was only a dream. It just - it felt so real."

Michael knew he shouldn't pry, but he needed to know what exactly had gone on in Fiona's mind to make her scream like that. "Fi, tell me what happened, please. I - I need to know."

"Michael you don't want that in your head."

"I need to know Fi," Michael repeated, this time more forcefully.

Fiona nodded and bit her bottom lip before speaking. "I did dream that we were on the roof, and that Sonya was about to shoot me. But this time, instead of shooting her" - Fiona took a breath to steady her voice - "you shot me."

At the pained look on Michael's face Fiona hurried to add, "It was just a dream, it shouldn't have bothered me so much. It's just, the look on your face when Sonya threatened me...for a split second I thought that you had chosen her. I guess it stuck in my subconscious. I'm sorry for waking you."

Michael closed his eyes and willed himself not to start crying at her words. She had admitted that for a moment she thought he was going to let her die. And when she had screamed his name in the throes of her nightmare, she had been begging him for her life. The idea shook him to his core.

"Fiona, I don't know what to say. I just - I was lost and I let James get to me. I'm sorry I wasn't stronger. I'm sorry I made you doubt that I...well what I should say is...Fiona, I love you."

The woman's eyes lit up and she opened her mouth to say something but was interrupted by a loud rapping at the door and a woman's voice saying, "Police! Open up!"

Michael and Fiona looked at each other in panic, both unsure whether running was a viable option. Upon deciding that trying to squeeze out of the tiny bathroom window would be nearly as stupid as dragging a three-year-old along on a police chase, Michael hid his gun behind his back and tossed Fiona hers. He opened the door slowly and pasted a tired grin on his face.

"Hello officer," he said in a flawless British accent, "is there something wrong?"

"Yes, there were several reports of screaming coming from this room. Do you mind if I have a look around?"

Not bothering to wait for an answer, Officer Regan, as her ID read, moved past Michael and walked towards Fiona, who still had watery eyes and a red nose from crying.

"Is everything okay here ma'am?" asked Officer Regan.

"Yes, Officer. I just had a nightmare, that was the screaming you heard." Fiona too had adopted a British accent.

"Hmm..." the officer responded, not seeming entirely convinced. "Would you like to come down to the station with me? Perhaps give an official statement?"

Fiona shook her head from side to side, causing the policewoman to drop all pretense.

"You don't have to stay here. I can help get you and your little boy" - she motioned toward Charlie - "away from here. There are shelters that will take you until you can get back on your feet. You don't have to stay with him." She nodded her head in Michael's direction. Fiona could barely hide her chuckle.

"Oh, don't worry, Officer. If he had touched me without permission he'd be the one in need of protection."

Officer Regan looked a bit disturbed but seemed to think Fiona was just making a distasteful joke.

"Okay, well if you're sure things are under control here then I'll be on my way. Please refrain from screaming from now on."

Michael showed the officer to the door and shut and locked it as soon as she had left. "Do you think she recognized us?" he asked, when the policewoman was out of earshot.

"No, I don't. Contrary to popular belief, I am not one of Britain's most wanted. Well, not in the top ten at least," she corrected herself.

"Even so, we should probably switch motels, just in case."

Fiona looked at him incredulously. "We are _not_ going to a different motel in the middle of the night just because a local cop paid us a visit.

"Okay," Michael conceded. The two sat together on the couch. Fiona could tell that Michael had something else to say but was taking time to choose his words.

He finally voiced his thoughts. "I can't lose you Fi."

Fiona was reminded of another time he used those words, and was glad that she was not handcuffed to a fence this time.

"Michael," she sighed, "I'm still here after all these years. If you haven't been able to get rid of me yet...you don't have anything to worry about."

"I'll make it up to you," Michael stated resolutely. "I will spend the rest of my life making sure that you know you are the - " he paused to swallow, "you are most important thing in my life."

Fiona felt tears begin to well in her eyes. She had waited so long to hear him say those words and mean them. He had proved them to her countless times, but the fact that he could finally say it to her face meant that he had reached a level of emotional maturity of which she had been unsure he was capable.

"That means a lot to me, Michael," she said, snuggling into his side. "But we have Charlie to think about now too. He has to come first."

Michael nodded in agreement, pulling her down on top of him as he settled on the tiny couch, his legs hanging over the side. "Let's try to get some sleep while we can. I want to get out of this country as soon as possible."

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The next morning Michael, Fiona, and Charlie were up before the sun had risen fully and arrived at the small airfield just as Clay was loading the last of his cargo onto the plane.

As the three walked towards the plane and Clay looked over his shoulder at them, Michael immediately noticed a shifty look in his eyes that he hadn't seen before. Having been a spy for over half of his life, Michael knew better than to second guess his gut. He made a show of checking his pockets for something and said in a loud voice, "Honey, could you go back to the car for me? I think I left my sunglasses in the glove compartment."

Fiona looked at him in alarm, immediately noticing his use of their code word for danger. She seemed to struggle for a moment, since her instinct was always to stay with Michael, but as soon as she glanced down at the boy beside her she knew she had to do as Michael asked. She turned and walked with Charlie to the car, which was parked a short distance away.

When Michael saw that she and Charlie were close to the car, he approached Clay, already having made up a plan in his head.

"Hey man," he began casually, "I think we're actually gonna hang here for a bit. We'll still pay you, but we won't be needing you to take us to Ireland anymore."

Michael knew he was right to have been suspicious when a look of panic crossed Clay's face and the pilot pressed a gun against his side.

Clay spoke into his ear in a low growl. "I don't care who you are or why you're on the run, but I'm willing to bet that the cops would like to know. I wouldn't be much of a business man if I didn't bribe the authorities with fugitives every once in a while."

Michael looked in the direction of the car and was relieved when he couldn't see Charlie. He assumed Fiona had hidden him in the back.

The man behind Michael spoke again. "I don't care about the kid, but your girlfriend will come in handy. Call her over."

Michael closed his eyes for a moment. He had to figure out how to get out of his vulnerable position. He certainly wasn't going to lure Fiona into Clay's slimy hands. _Drive away Fi_, he silently willed her.

When he finally opened his eyes however, his heart sank at what he saw. Fiona was jogging over to them, smile on her face, seemingly oblivious to the intentions of their pilot.

"Looks like she won't need much convincing. If you say a word she's dead." Michael could almost hear the sneer on Clay's face.

As Fiona got closer, Michael's panic level rose. She seemed completely unaware that she was running into a trap. Soon her face was right in front of his and Michael thought they were doomed, until she leaned in for a kiss and said: "Honey...now!"

Michael didn't even have to think. He spun out of Clay's grip just as Fiona landed a roundhouse kick to his former captive's head, grabbing the man's arm so that he couldn't use his gun. Fiona then kicked the arm that Michael was holding, causing Clay to release the gun. Once the weapon had fallen to the ground, Michael put the pilot in a choke hold, knocking him out cold. Fiona grabbed his hand and ran to the car, hopping into the driver's seat and pealing out of the parking lot before Michael had time to fasten his seat belt.

"Well that wasn't how I'd hoped this day would start," Michael lamented.

Fiona nodded in agreement and breathed heavily, trying to catch her breath. "Where do you want to go now?" she asked Michael, who was rubbing his hand over his forehead in agitation.

"Uh...I think our best bet is to take a ferry to Ireland. We can use our fake IDs and it'll only take a few hours."

Fiona nodded then asked, "Do you know where the nearest ferry departs from?"

"No, but I saw a tourist information booth on our way here. I bet we can find the ferry schedule there too."

They procured a schedule without a problem and decided that they would drive to Fishguard and board a late afternoon ferry which would take them to Rosslare, which was a safe distance from Dublin.

The drive took them five hours. Normally, Michael and Fiona enjoyed their car rides together. They had traveled together long distances for jobs and occasionally pleasure, and usually savored simply being together in the rare peace and quiet. They discovered though, that when a three year-old boy is thrown into the mix, peace and quiet are nothing but a far-off memory.

Charlie began the trip by talking their ears off about his top ten favorite dinosaurs, and insisted that they tell him their favorites too. Then, just when they thought he had nothing more to say on the topic, they passed a construction site. This led their nephew to describe in detail the time that he had been allowed to wear a hard hat and sit in a bulldozer when his school parking lot had been redone. Talking about his school had made the boy remember that he had to practice the songs for his Harvest Concert, and so for the next twenty minutes the car was filled with the child's not-entirely-accurate renditions of "Over the River and Through the Woods," "Five Little Pumpkins," and for some unfathomable reason, a Beatles medley.

The adults missed the calmness that their car rides usually embodied, but they both agreed that Charlie made the ride more fun.

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	4. Chapter 4

Here is the next chapter. There's not much action in this one but there is some coming up. Thanks you so much for reading!

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When lunch time rolled around, Michael went into a little shop and picked up sandwiches and salads. They found a park nearby and decided to spend some time there, so that Charlie could burn off some of his energy. They sat eating and watching Charlie play with a new friend, glad that their nephew was able to have a moment of normalcy.

Fiona took advantage of Charlie's distraction to ask Michael a question she had been pondering all day. "When we get to Ireland, do you think we might be able to call my mother?" She didn't give Michael time to answer before adding, "I know it's a risk, but I don't want my family to think I'm dead. And they know how to keep a secret; none of them would let something that important slip."

Michael waited until he was sure she was done, then answered, choosing his words carefully. "I was thinking about that too, and I think calling your mother might actually be a smart move. If she and your brothers are aware of our situation, then they can keep an ear out for anything suspicious and give us a heads up." Fiona grinned at his unexpected answer. "And I want you to be able to stay in touch with your family. It's my fault that you haven't been home for so long. Just do me one favor."

"Anything," Fiona replied, and both knew from experience that she meant it literally.

"Don't let your brothers kill me. Sean must've told them I was a spy. They probably want my head on a platter."

"Don't worry, Michael. They learned long ago not to mess with my things," she teased, patting his cheek. "Besides," she added, leaning in closer, "my mother would insist on finishing you off herself."

By 4:00pm they had reached the location where the ferry was docked. Charlie had been almost as excited by the ferry as he was by the plane. He insisted that they take seats right by the bow, so that he could see the waves crash and feel the salty spray against his face. When the novelty had worn off, Michael and Fiona led him below deck, so they could sit and have dinner.

"Where are we going?" Charlie asked around a mouthful of hot dog.

"We're going to Ireland, remember?" Fiona replied. "That's where we're going to live."

"Oh yeah," replied Charlie, taking a sip of water and swallowing. "Is Gramma gonna be at Ireland too?" Michael saw Fiona's face fall, and took it upon himself to answer.

"No, Charlie. She's...gone." He had to take a moment to compose himself before he could say anything else.

"Oh, I forgot." Charlie was clearly disappointed. "Can I call her?" Fiona and Michael both shook their heads sadly. "I'm sorry, Charlie, we can't." Fiona wished she could cheer the little boy up, and suddenly an idea came to her. "You can draw her a picture though. Or Uncle Michael and I can help you write a letter to her." Charlie's face lit up.

"Can we do that now?"

"Of course," said Michael, having regained a bit of control over his emotions. He grabbed some paper and a crayon - the only writing implement he could find - and told Charlie he was ready.

"Hi Gramma," began Charlie. "I miss you. Please come to my birthday party. I'm gonna have strawberry ice cream." He paused for a moment to think. "I hope you like Heaven. I'm going to 'Island' on a 'fairy'. It's so fun! I love you!" Charlie finished and went back to eating his hot dog, oblivious to the watery eyes of his aunt and uncle.

Approximately two hours later, the ferry docked in Rosslare. Fiona grabbed a pamphlet from the ticket booth and flipped through, searching for a place for them to stay. She managed to find a remote bed and breakfast and Michael flagged down a taxi to take them there. Fiona noticed that Michael had vetted the cab driver carefully before getting into the taxi. She knew that he was making sure that the driver did not have any ulterior motives.

The middle aged Irish taxi driver took them to a place where they could exchange their American dollars to Euros and pick up some burner phones, then to the bed and breakfast.

After signing in, Michael led Fiona and Charlie to the room in which they would be staying. It was much nicer than the motel, and Charlie was soon settled on the pullout couch watching a tv show that Michael did not recognize but seemed kid-friendly. It was nearly midnight local time, but Charlie wasn't yet tired because of how much earlier it was in Miami.

Fiona and Michael sat on the full-size bed, which was draped in a large woolen blanket, and stared at the burner phone between them. "Are you sure about this, Michael? I don't want anything to get in the way of our life together."

"I'm sure Fi. This is your family; they deserve to know you're okay. And we could use any support they can give us."

"_You're_ my family," she told Michael, then picked up the phone and began to dial with unsteady fingers. She listened to the phone ring five times and was almost ready to give up, when she heard a familiar Irish accent greet her with an impatient "_Hello_?"

"Sean," she breathed. "It's me."

Sean Glenanne was not a man who was easily surprised. He had been the youngest boy in his family and had learned early how to watch his back so as to not be taken off guard. However, when he heard his rumored-to-be-dead little sister's voice, he nearly cried from shock and relief.

"Fiona? Yer alive! I heard fram some business associates in tha states that ya'd died in an explosion. I can' tell ya how relieved I am tha' they war wrong!"

Fiona spoke as soon as Sean stopped to take a breath. "Sean! Listen to me! You can't tell anyone but mum and the brothers that I'm alive. Michael and I are on the run."

"On tha run?" repeated Sean. "I knew tha' man wa' bad news. What sort o' trouble's he got ya inta now?"

"That's none of you're business Sean. I only called to let you know that I'm alive and in Ireland, and to -" she was cut off by her brother's growl of frustration.

"Yer in Ireland! Are ya serious? Do ya know how dangerous it is for ya ta be 'ere?"

"I'm not going anywhere I might be recognized. Michael and I are going to find a quiet, out of the way place to live." Sean started yelling again.

"Tha' bastard! I should never 'ave trusted him. Ya nearly get killed an' he -"

"Sean!" Fiona silenced him. "Put mum on the phone please." Sean grumbled a few curse words under his breath and named a few creative places where he'd like to shoot her boyfriend, but did as Fiona asked.

"Fiona?" her mother's soft voice came through. "Is it really you?"

"It's me mum," she assured her, tears welling in her eyes.

"Wha's this I hear about ya bein' in Ireland? Do ya have a death wish?" Fiona smiled at the familiar tone her mother's voice took on. She had always been a quiet woman, more like Claire than Fiona, but her soft tone could convey enough danger to send a general running for the hills.

"Of course not mum. I just - I wanted to come home, she finished honestly.

"Well, 'tis not safe fer ya ta come here."

"I know. Michael and I and our nephew, Charlie, are going to find somewhere safe to live, far from Belfast and Dublin." Fiona heard a quiet sniffle from the other end of the phone.

"I dinnae think ya'd ever sit still long enough ta have a family of yer own, bu' I see I was wrong. Am so happy fer ya Fiona."

"I'm happy too," Fiona admitted truthfully.

"Do ya remember yer Aunt Mary, me oldest sister?"

"Of course I do. She sent us bags of jelly beans every Easter," Fiona reminisced.

"She passed away las' year an' left me 'er house. None of yer brothers wanted it 'cuz it's in tha middle o' nowhar. I war going ta try ta sell it, but if ya want it, it's yers."

Fiona gasped at her mother's generosity. "Are you sure mum? I know you could use the money."

"Am getting by jus' fine. I'd rather know yer livin' in it, with yer family. After all these years wit'out ya, it'll make me happy ta give ya something."

"Mum, that means so much to me. I don't know what to say."

"Jus' say you'll let me visit sometime. 'Tis been so long since I've seen ya, an' I need ta keep tha' man o' yers on his toes."

Fiona laughed. "Absolutely."

"Good. Tha house is in Bridgeport ... Get something ta write wit' and I'll give ya tha address."

Fiona copied down the address and brief instructions her mother gave her and said goodbye after thanking her profusely. After she hung up she turned towards Michael with a huge grin on her face. "We have a home."

Later that night, Michael lay on the comfortable bed, holding a sleeping Fiona in his arms. He still felt guilt trickle through his veins every time he looked at her. It was bad enough that she'd been dragged alongside him these past several years, sometimes willingly sometimes not. But then how did he repay her? By turning his back on all the things that made her stand by him all these years, and forcing her to sacrifice herself for him over and over again.

Michael was pulled from his rumination by Charlie crying out in his sleep. Michael laid still for a moment, hoping that his nephew would calm down on his own. The noises intensified however, and soon he was fully crying. By that time, Fiona had woken as well, and giving each other looks of panic, the two leaped out of bed and ran to their nephew, who was now sitting up and sobbing.

"I want Gramma!" he cried again and again. Michael and Fiona both tried to soothe him with whispers of "_It's okay_" and "_Everything is alright._" When that didn't seem to lessen the crying, Michael decided to take drastic measures.

"Do you want to play?" Charlie shook his head, still crying.

"How about dinosaurs?" No again.

"Want a yogurt?"

"Cookie?" Michael was getting desperate.

Finally, Fiona cut in. Having had to bribe the boy herself occasionally, she knew what to offer. If this didn't work, then nothing would.

"Charlie, do you want to watch Cars?" Charlie lifted his head up, his crying finally ceasing, and nodded. Michael and Fiona each let out a huge sigh of relief, and went to get the DVD player. Michael thanked his mom again, wherever she was, when he saw she had packed plenty of extra batteries for the player. Fiona placed the priceless device on the boy's bed, and started the movie, making sure the volume was as low as possible. The two adults sat with him until they were sure he had fallen back to sleep, then climbed back into their own bed.

Once again, Michael took his girlfriend into his arms. "I'm sorry you got dragged into this," he began but was cut off by Fiona.

"How many times do I have to tell you -" he held up a finger to silence her.

"Can I finish what I was saying before you yell at me, please?" Fiona blushed and nodded. "I'm sorry you got dragged into this, but, I couldn't do this without you. So, thank you." Fiona smiled and settled back against him, appeased.

"I could probably manage without you," she replied, smugly. "But, I would never want to," she added honestly, tangling his hand in hers and losing herself to sleep once again.

The next morning, after eating the traditional Irish breakfast provided by their hosts, they took a taxi to a nearby shopping mall and 'borrowed' what they hoped would be the last car they would need. They planned on stopping by a small car dealership on their way to Bridgeport, to buy a vehicle of their own. They had just enough cash for a fairly nice one, and since they would no longer need to buy a house, they didn't have to worry about saving it. In fact, they'd be relieved to not have it weighing down their luggage.

It took them an hour to find a car dealership, where they decided upon buying a a black Range Rover.

"It will handle well in the snow," Michael reasoned, "and stand up well to gunfire...just in case."

Fiona liked that it had plenty of room in the trunk. At Michael's warning glare, she held up her hands defensively. "Old habits die hard."

Charlie was ecstatic about the built-in DVD player. The salesman gave them a deal upon discovering that they were planning to give him all the cash up front, and so Michael, Fiona, and Charlie drove away in their new ride happy and not yet broke.

They reached Fiona's aunt's old house by late afternoon. It wasn't normally such a long journey, but they had driven around for hours, on the off chance that anyone was following them. It seemed that no one was.

Michael carried in the bags and groceries that they had picked up along the way while Fiona searched fruitlessly for the key that her mother claimed was hidden under a flowerpot.

"Can't you just pick the lock?" he asked, growing tired of holding the heavy bags.

"I refuse to start our new life together by breaking into out own house," she replied indignantly.

"You didn't have a problem with it in Miami," he grumbled under his breath.

Finally, Fiona found the key beneath a flowerpot by the back door, and the new family stumbled, exhausted, into their new home. The house was beautiful. It was made from stone and had a true Irish feel to it. Fiona fell in love with the fireplace. The weather wasn't cold enough to use it just yet, but she was sure it would come in handy within the next month.

The family wandered around, exploring. The kitchen was by no means modern, but it was in good condition. Fiona remembered how much her aunt had enjoyed cooking, and knew that the kitchen would contain plenty of pots, pans, and utensils. Michael was grateful that they wouldn't have to buy any of those things.

They moved on to peer in the tiny half-bath, and then marched up the narrow stairs to check out the bedrooms. There were three, one of which had been converted into a sewing room. Michael supposed they could make that an office or playroom. Charlie immediately fell in love with the smaller of the remaining bedrooms, because it had a blue and red quilt draped over the twin bed: his two favorite colors. It also contained a child-size rocking chair and a box full of old-fashioned toys. Fiona supposed it had been her cousin Caelum's room years ago. Charlie wanted to move into his new room right away and ran downstairs to get his things, leaving Michael and Fiona alone to find their new room.

They walked down to the end of the hallway hand-in-hand, as they had often been since fleeing from the exploding building. Michael placed his hand on the doorknob and, holding Fiona's gaze intently. Together they turned to examine the room and smiled in contentment.

It was much smaller than the loft, but much cozier. There was a full-size bed jutting out from one wall, and an armoire standing against another. A full length mirror was hung to the left of a door leading to a modest bathroom which housed a claw-foot bathtub and a single sink and toilet. Like the rest of the house, the small master suite hadn't been cleaned in months, but Fiona could tell her aunt had kept the place spotless while she had lived.

"What do you think?" asked Michael, turning to face her once more. "It's nothing like the loft. Well, except for the small bathrooms."

"I love it," replied Fiona, breathlessly.

"Then it's perfect," Michael stated with conviction.

Fiona stepped into his arms and began to kiss him unlike she had in nearly a year. He returned the kiss with equal fervor.

"Uncle Michael! Auntie Fi! Where are you!" Charlie's nervous-sounding voice interrupted their activities.

"We're in here!" Michael called out.

"In our bedroom!" Fiona added, feeling an unfamiliar giddiness.

Charlie ran in, looking just as thrilled as his guardians felt. "Can I sleep in my new room tonight? Please?" he begged.

"Of course," Fiona replied, looking at her watch. "In fact, I think now is a good time for you to start getting ready for bed. Uncle Michael," she said grinning, "could you get Charlie's pajamas, toothbrush, and blanket while I take him to the bathroom? And don't forget his pull-up!"

Michael nodded and started down the stairs. Fiona led her nephew into the bathroom which was located between his room and the spare room. It was about the same size as the master bath, but contained a shower instead of a tub. Upon seeing he shower, Fiona remembered that none of them had showered in days. It simply hadn't been top priority when they were on the run.

She turned the water on, grateful that the water heater hadn't been turned off, and had Charlie remove his clothes and step in. She lathered his hair and body with some slightly crusty anti-dandruff shampoo, then let him rinse off for a few minutes. When Michael entered with Charlie's belongings, Fiona helped him step out and dried his body with a fluffy towel that Michael had found in the linen closet.

Once Charlie had gotten dressed and brushed his teeth, Fiona noticed his eyelids were drooping. "Do you want Uncle Michael to read you a book before bed?" she asked.

Charlie nodded and yawned. He followed his uncle into his bedroom and settled on the bed, ready for his story. Fiona left the two boys alone and went downstairs to unpack.

First she removed the few clothes and supplies that she and Michael had brought and placed then in their bedroom. Then, she opened the small, empty closet, feeling a sting of regret when she remembered the clothing and shoes she had abandoned in Miami. Michael entered the room quietly and wrapped his arms around her waist.

"I'll buy you new clothes Fi," he assured her.

"I know," she said, still staring into the vacant closet. "I just miss my old things." She sighed then continued. "There was this dress I bought this year, about a month before you came back to Miami. I bought it because the color reminded me of your eyes, and I wanted you to see me in it. I never got the chance to wear it. It serves me right I suppose for buying a dress for you when I was living with Carlos."

Michael tried not to think of the man who had taken his place in Fiona's life for a brief time. "You know Fi, it wouldn't be suspicious for Sam and Jesse to send your things to Ireland. They could say that they're sending the stuff to your family."

Fiona cheered up a bit. "When do you think it will be safe for us to contact them?"

"Probably not for at least a few months, we have to stay under the radar. But I bet they'll put our things in storage...as long as they aren't in jail," he finished looking down at the floor. Fiona turned around in his arms.

"They'll be fine," she said confidently. "The CIA owes them for their role in taking down James's entire organization."

Michael nodded and added, "The CIA owes you too Fi, but not as much as I do." Michael rubbed his rough hands up and down the length of her arms. He couldn't figure out how he had ever thought he could live without her.

"You do owe me, Michael," she said seriously. "And you can start making it up to me right"- she grabbed his hips -"now."

She stood on her tiptoes and caressed his lips with hers, allowing him to deepen the kiss immediately. They soon fell into bed, savoring every touch, every breath, as if it were the last. When they finally joined as one, it was as if the world made sense once again.

Fiona and Michael both knew that there was no one who else who could make them feel so complete. And as they fell asleep, they each felt that there was nowhere else they would rather be, than home.

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Reviews are welcome and appreciated!


	5. Chapter 5

Here is another chapter! I've been forgetting to say this, but I don't own Burn Notice. Obviously.

As always thank you to everyone who reads my stories. I respond to most of my reviews, but I can't respond to the anonymous ones so THANK YOU!

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Although Michael and Fiona were relieved to have arrived at their destination, they didn't dare sit back and relax just yet. They had so much to do before they could fully immerse themselves in their new lives. Michael was trying to figure out how to get their new identities made, and Fiona was chomping at the bit to go shopping, since fall was about to arrive in Ireland and none of them had enough suitable clothes.

After they had been in their new house for a few days, Michael came up with a solution, though it wasn't ideal. He broached the subject with Fiona after Charlie went to bed easily for the third night in a row, having been worn out from exploring their vast property that day.

"Fi, I know I said we should wait a while to contact Sam, but I really think we need his help." Fiona nodded her head, encouraging him to go on. "It's too dangerous to try to get new IDs here, but if he can get some back in Miami, he can send them to us, along with our belongings."

"I think that's our best option," Fiona agreed. "It's a bit risky, but we need to get our new identities as soon as possible."

Michael looked over at the grandfather clock standing in the corner. "It'll still be afternoon in Miami, let's call now. Hopefully Sam's been released by the CIA." Michael went to retrieve one of the burner phones and dialed the number his friend had given him. He smiled in relief when Sam answered before the second ring.

"Sam? It's me."

"I wasn't expecting to hear from you so soon. Is everything okay?"

"Everything's fine Sam." Michael hesitated before going on. "Are you sure this connection is secure?"

"Positive...this phone's never been used before and I'll destroy it after."

"Great. I'm actually calling because Fi and I need a favor."

"Name it."

"We need to get our permanent IDs made up. Passports, driver's licenses, birth certificates, the whole thing. I don't want to get that here because we're trying to lay low."

"Say no more, brother," said Sam, "Jesse and I can get those to you. And we cleaned out Fi's house. Do you want us to send that stuff along as well?"

"You read my mind Sam." He paused. "I know those three new identities aren't going to come cheap. You can sell all of Fi's furniture, and her car. And I can send you the rest of the money as soon as I've found a job." He felt badly asking Sam to front him so much money.

"Not to worry, Mikey; you owe your mom even more than we thought. It turns out she was totally prepared for any outcome."

"Sam? What are you talking about?"

"Your mom was smart Mike. She put me fifth in her will, after you, Nate, Charlie, and Fiona. Since you are all deceased, officially anyway, that means I have control over everything she owned."

Michael's jaw dropped in awe and pride. His mother had more sense than he had ever given her credit for.

"Sam are you serious?" he asked, seeing Fiona's questioning look and putting a hand up to stop her from interrupting.

"Yeah, I am. I figured I could sell your mom's property and send you the money, but instead I'll use it to get your IDs. Then you can live off the money from Fi's house, car, and furniture, plus what your mom had saved up. It should last a while."

Michael felt a huge grin spread across his face. Now that he was responsible for Charlie, financial security was more important than ever before, and it didn't look like he'd have to worry too much.

"Thanks Sam, that's such a relief."

"No problem, brother. Now, where am I sending your stuff?"

Michael was silent for a moment. He knew Sam would think he was crazy when he found out where they had chosen to live.

"I won't tell anyone Mike," he promised, misconstruing Michael's silence.

"I'll have you send it to Fi's mother's house," he started. "Just pretend she asked for her daughter's belongings, so no one gets suspicious. She'll get the packages to us."

"She'll get them to you...how? Wait, Mikey, you're not saying...are you? Did you really go back to-"

Michael cut him off before he could finish his sentence. "Yes, Sam. We did."

"Are you nuts? Why would you take your girlfriend back to a place where the government wants her dead? Not to mention all the guys who'd give their right arms for the chance to torture her!"

"Sam! It's okay!" Michael shouted. We're in a really remote part of the country. No one here has any ties to Fi." His voice softened. "We know it's a risk, but after all we've been through, we just wanted to go home. And since Miami is out of the question, Ireland was the next best thing." Fiona reached out to squeeze Michael's hand reassuringly. On the other end of the phone Sam sighed.

"Alright, brother, I understand. I don't agree, but I understand. I'll send the IDs and other stuff to Fi's mom as soon as they're finished. And when I sell your ma's property and Fi's house I'll send you that money too. What names did you choose?"

"Michael, Fiona, and Charles Finn."

Sam let out a barking laugh. "Not bad, if I do say so myself. I'll get it done."

"Thanks Sam. And tell Jesse thank you, too."

"Don't mention it, Mikey. Here's the number of the next burner phone I'll use. Call me anytime."

After Michael had copied the number down and said goodbye to Sam, he destroyed his own burner phone. He then walked back to Fiona, who barely gave him time to sit before asking, "What was that all about?"

Michael explained what his mother had done and how Sam would send their new identities, belongings, and cash to Ireland. Fiona beamed at the news.

"This is wonderful Michael! We really do have the best friends and family in the world, don't we?"

"Absolutely Fi." Michael sat back against the couch for a moment, and was surprised when he looked over at Fiona and saw her face had darkened.

"It's not going to be as easy as it seems, is it Michael?"

Fiona had voiced the very thought that Michael had been trying to avoid. He couldn't lie to her though. "No Fi," he shook his head slowly, "probably not." If he had learned one thing from his years of working as a secret agent, it was that nothing was ever easy. "But it will be worth it."

The next day was bittersweet. It was Charlie's birthday, and the morning started before the sun had risen, with Charlie running into his aunt and uncle's room shouting "I'm four! I'm four!"

Fiona had picked up a few toys, books, and art supplies for Charlie in the grocery store on their way to their house, and although they weren't wrapped, Charlie was thrilled. When the sun had come up and warmed the air a bit, Michael and Fiona raked piles of leaves and let Charlie jump into them as many times as he wanted. Michael cooked Charlie's favorite dinner, macaroni and cheese and hot dogs, which they all enjoyed thoroughly. Then after an admittedly weak rendition of "Happy Birthday", Fiona brought out the vanilla cake with chocolate frosting that she had baked that afternoon.

After they had all eaten their fill, they played Charlie's favorite game, hide-and-seek, and then helped him get ready for bed. Charlie asked for both of them to tuck him in, and they happily obliged. Just before Michael turned of the light, however, Charlie spoke.

"Uncle Michael, Aunt Fiona? Can I tell you something?"

"Anything," answered Fiona.

"This was my best birthday ever."

Fiona felt her breath catch in her throat and left the room before Charlie could see her tears. Michael bade Charlie a final good night and then followed his girlfriend downstairs.

"He's really special isn't he?" Fiona whispered, eyes watery. Michael agreed wholeheartedly.

"I wish your mom could-" she hiccuped "-be here."

Michael took her into his arms and shed a few tears himself. They stayed that way for a long time, both remembering the brave woman who had given her life so that they could be exactly where they were.

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In the days that followed, the family had nothing to do but spend time together. For two people who were rarely able to go more than two weeks without firing a gun, this was a bit unsettling. However, now that they had Charlie, Michael and Fiona were more busy than ever before. Charlie was finally beginning to feel at home with his aunt and uncle, and although he still asked about Madeline, Nate, and occasionally Ruth, he seemed to realize that they were his guardians now.

Their first week living in their new house was blessedly uneventful. Very few people lived within a five mile radius, so they had no neighbors to deal with. And they hadn't needed to go shopping again. They had stocked up well when they arrived the week before, and the few clothes they had brought along, courtesy of Jesse, were appropriate for autumn. Although Fiona had to admit she was getting tired of wearing the same two sweaters over and over.

By the end of the week, they hadn't heard anything from the outside world since Michael had called Sam. That is, until the house phone started ringing one afternoon. Michael looked at Fiona, alarmed.

"Does anyone know we're here besides your mother?"

"I don't think so...but let's let the machine get it, just in case."

The answering machine played Fiona's late aunt's customized message and then beeped loudly. Michael and Fiona waited in silence to hear who had called.

"Fiona? Are you thar? It's yer mammy, pick up."

Both let out the breaths they had been holding when they heard Fiona's mother speak. Fiona hurried to pick up he phone.

"Hello mum. Is everything okay?"

"Everything is fine, Fiona. Am just callin' about tha house. Am trying ta get it put in yer and Michael's names, so ya won' run inta any legal problems, but tha lawyer needs you two ta come inta tha office and sign tha paperwork in person."

Fiona bit her lip, immediately anxious. "I'm not sure if that's possible. Michael and are are trying to be inconspicuous." Fiona loved her mother dearly, but in her old age she had lost some of her invaluable cautiousness.

"I know it's a lot ta ask, Fiona, but if you two sign this paperwork then tha house will legally be yers, and ya won' have ta worry about anyone taking it fram ya. I think it'll be best in tha long run."

Fiona nodded and glanced at Michael out of the corner of her eye. He wasn't going to be happy about this.

"Alright mum, we'll do it. Where is the law office?"

Fiona took down the address her mother recited, which was in the city of Dublin, and asked her to keep an eye out for the packages that Sam would be sending. The two exchanged farewells, and Fiona hung up the phone and turned towards Michael, who was already glaring at her. She took a deep breath, using the time to decide how to break the bad news.

"My mother is meeting with a lawyer in order to switch the house to our names," she began.

"And..." prompted Michael, who could read her like a board book.

"And she needs us to go to the law office in Dublin to sign the paperwork in person," she spat out quickly.

"No Fi. You have got to be kidding me! It's dangerous enough that you're in this country at all. I am not going to let you wander around the city you're most likely to be recognized!"

Fiona glanced out the window to make sure that Charlie was still playing with chalk outside and out of earshot, before letting loose on Michael.

"You won't _let_ me? How dare you talk to me like that! You don't _own_ me Michael Westen and if you think you can control what I do or where I go then you can expect to have a bloody nose for the foreseeable future!"

Fiona's boyfriend had the good sense to look ashamed of himself. "I'm sorry Fi, I shouldn't have put it that way. I just don't want you to get hurt. It sounds so risky."

"I know Michael, but the sooner we own this house, the sooner we can start putting down roots. I like it here, and I want it to be our home, officially."

Michael was quiet for a moment. He knew how she felt. He couldn't wait until their house would really belong to them. And it would definitely strengthen their new identities if they had proof of residence.

"Okay Fi." Michael acquiesced eventually. "But I don't want to bring Charlie there. How about I drive up there first while you stay with Charlie and if it seems safe then you can drive up when I get back."

"Okay," Fiona agreed. "But I want to drive up there first. It's getting colder every day and I want to shop for some winter clothes for all of us as soon as possible."

Michael looked reluctant, but Fiona reminded him that she was the better shopper by far, and he couldn't disagree with that. Fiona decided that she might as well leave early the next morning, so after Charlie had gone to bed that night they sat looking through an old map, trying to figure out the safest way to Dublin. Once they found a route they could both agree upon they retired to bed, where they made love lazily before drifting off into a peaceful slumber.

Just after breakfast the next morning, Fiona prepared to leave for the city. It was only about a two hour drive, but she wanted to make sure she packed a gun and a block of C4, _in case of emergency_, she said. Michael gave her a huge chunk of the cash they had left and she eyed it with a mischievous expression until he reminded her that the money was for clothes for _all_ of them. Fiona kissed Michael goodbye, and reminded Charlie, who was looking anxious about the separation, that she would return in time to read him a bedtime story.

After they watched the car disappear down the dirt road, Michael and Charlie returned to the house, eager to start their special "guys' day."

As the day went by, Michael couldn't help but worry about his girlfriend. He knew she was capable of taking care of herself, but the people who held grudges against her were just plain nasty. Dinnertime rolled around and Fiona had still not returned. Michael felt his stomach doing flip flops. He half-heartedly encouraged Charlie to eat, but didn't even take a bite himself. Soon it was past Charlie's bedtime but the little boy refused to go to bed without the story he had been promised by his aunt. Michael let him sit on the couch and watch Finding Nemo until he fell asleep, then moved him into his own bedroom. Once Charlie was in bed he let himself begin to panic.

He wracked his brains, trying to think of a reasonable explanation for why Fiona would be so late without calling him, but couldn't think of a single one. He called her burner phone for the sixth time that day but got no answer, as he had expected.

Finally he decided to call her mother, thinking perhaps she would know where Fiona was. Mrs. Glenanne answered the phone, but seemed just as worried as Michael when he told her that Fiona still hadn't come back. The elderly woman told Michael that she had met up with Fiona at ten that morning, as planned, but when the meeting ended just before eleven, she and Fiona had parted. Michael promised Mrs. Glenanne that he would call her as soon as he found any clue as to where Fiona might be. She added that she'd ask Fiona's brothers to begin searching for her, though under the radar of course, since she was supposed to be dead. Michael hoped with his whole being that that lie had not become the truth.

Michael didn't get any sleep that night. In the past when Fiona had been missing, Michael would spend every moment searching for her, contacting those who might know her location, and planning how to rescue her once she had been found. This time however, he couldn't do any of that, partly because of Charlie and partly because he was supposed to be dead.

To prevent himself from going crazy with worry, he took out the beat up map of Ireland and drew the route that Fiona was to have taken to get home from Dublin, circling spots along the way where he recalled her causing mayhem in the past. Her version of mayhem usually resulted in a few dangerous men swearing to get revenge on her, so Michael figured those were good places to start looking. He made a list of some similar locations in other parts of the country as well. Having finished that task, Michael sat at the kitchen table, feeling overwhelmed with the vastness of the places Fiona could be. _That is, if she's still alive_, said the voice in the back of his head. Michael forced himself to ignore it. _Chances are that whoever captured her will want to keep her alive for a while_, he reminded himself. He tried not to think about what that would mean for Fiona.

His anxiety bubbled uncontrollably to the surface once more. _If only I had a team_, he thought, _any team_. Then it hit him that he _did_ have a team, or at least Fiona did. She had five brothers who were probably almost as eager to find her as he himself. He quickly searched the cabinets in the kitchen until he found a slightly battered address book. Flipping through it, he scanned the pages until he saw the name _Glenanne, Sean_. He hoped that the phone number listed was still current, and dialed.

"Do ya bloody know wha time it is?" answered the voice of his girlfriend's favorite brother.

"Sean, it's me," he said quietly, expecting an outburst from the angry Irishman.

"You!" he shouted. "I should wring yer neck fer bringin' me sister back ta this place! If ya wanted 'er dead ya should've had tha guts ta do it yerself, ya bastard!"

"I don't want her dead," he defended. "We were going to lay low, stay under the radar, but she insisted on signing that damn paperwork!"

"Ya could've stopped 'er ya coward!"

"I _tried_ to make her let me go first, but when your sister sets her mind to something, even I can't change it."

Sean let out one last huff. "Aye," he conceded, "yer righ' about that. So what's the plan?"

Michael was grateful that Sean was not going to waste any more time arguing. He gave him the list of places he thought Fiona was likely to be and asked Sean to have his brothers help with the search. Sean agreed readily, but then warned Michael that he had better avoid the rest of the Glenanne men at all costs.

"I had ta tell them tha truth abou' ya when I got back fram tha states. They're not as forgivin' as I about you puttin' our sister in danger."

Michael thanked him for the advice, gave him the numbers where Sean could reach him, and hung up, feeling just as useless as before. For the first time since they had left Miami, Michael wished that Charlie were not his responsibility. He wanted to focus completely on finding Fiona, but he couldn't leave Charlie alone, even though he was sleeping soundly. Michael weighed his options, finally deciding that he would have to contact Sam and, once again, ask too much of him.

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Thanks for reading! Please review!


	6. Chapter 6

This is an extra long chapter, and full of action. I hope you like it.

Thank you as always to all you awsome reviewers and everyone who takes the time to read!

By the way, I don't own Burn Notice.

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Michael called Sam's burner phone for the second time that week, unsurprised when his best friend picked up immediately.

"Yeah Mikey?"

"Sam," began Michael. "I need to ask you a favor. A big one."

Sam gave him the go ahead, "Shoot."

"Fiona went to Dublin to sign some paperwork and do some shopping. She was supposed to back eight hours ago."

"Oh boy, Mike." he groaned. "That's not good. Do you need me to help you look for her? I can hop on a flight and be there in twelve hours."

"I actually need someone to watch Charlie, so I can look for her without getting him hurt."

"Say no more, brother, I'll be there. And I know Jess'll come with me. It's been pretty boring around here without any government conspiracies to obsess over," he tried to lighten the mood.

"Thank you Sam," he said sincerely. Then a thought occurred to him. "You're landing in Dublin right?" He didn't wait for a response. "I'll give you the route Fiona was going to take to get back to our house so you can look for anything suspicious on the way."

"Will do, brother."

Michael gave Sam the directions and thanked him profusely before hanging up and checking the clock. It was nearly four in the morning. He decided to force himself to get some sleep before Charlie woke up. He knew he would need to be alert if he had any chance of bringing Fiona back home, alive.

As soon as Charlie woke the next morning he ran into his aunt and uncle's bedroom, looking for Fiona.

Michael wasn't sure what to tell him, so he simply said that Fiona had been delayed on her trip home, and that she'd be back soon. He hoped that he was telling Charlie the truth.

"When Aunt Fi comes home, do you think she'll make me chocolate chip pancakes? She promised she'd make them soon."

"I'll make sure she does," Michael assured him, praying that Fiona would get the opportunity to keep her promise.

The morning dragged by. Michael was going crazy over not being able to do anything to help find Fiona. He couldn't even drive around with Charlie because Fiona had taken the car. All he could do was play halfheartedly with Charlie until Sam showed up to take over. Eventually the knots in his stomach became too painful and he let Charlie watch a movie while he cleaned the few guns they had brought to Ireland and packed some ammo and explosives in a small bag.

By that time it was nearly one o'clock in the afternoon. He supposed Sam and Jesse would be arriving in the next couple of hours.

About an hour after Charlie had finished the lunch Michael made for him, Michael heard a car driving up the road to their house. He pulled a gun out from behind his back and glanced out the window, wanting to be sure it was not an unexpected guest. When he saw his best friends exit the car, a brown sedan, he let out a relieved breath and went to greet them.

Not wanting to waste time with pleasantries, Michael explained all he knew about the situation, and then called Charlie in to say hello to Sam and Jesse.

"I have to go get Aunt Fi now, Charlie," he explained, "but I'll be back soon. Jesse is going to stay here and play with you. Make sure you do whatever he tells you, okay?"

Michael looked up at Jesse to make sure he agreed to the plan. He nodded his consent and then went over to take Charlie's hand. "Do you want to hang out with me for a while big guy?"

Charlie smiled and dragged Jesse by the hand, towards his new birthday toys.

"Charlie," Michael called out, remembering something Fiona said, "Iloveyou." It came out like one word.

"Love you too, Uncle Michael! See you later!"

Michael turned towards Sam. "Ready?" he asked.

"As ready as I'll ever be." The two men got into the car and began their search for Fiona.

Two and a half hours later, they arrived in Dublin. They had retraced Fiona's planned route carefully, looking for anything unusual but had found nothing. They arrived at the law office and asked the receptionist if he had seen a "Fiona Finn" leave the building the day before. He said that he had, adding that he wouldn't forget seeing a body like that walking away in some time. Michael managed to growl out a thanks through clenched teeth as Sam steered him away from the front desk before he lost his cool.

The two men then went into some of the nearby stores and asked if anyone had seen a woman matching Fiona's description the previous day. Michael had been shopping with Fiona often enough that he knew exactly which stores she would enter if she had walked down that street. No one admitted to having seen her though, so Sam and Michael both agreed that she must have been taken just after she left the law office.

"Whoever took Fi must have wanted her pretty bad to have snatched her from a busy street in broad daylight," Sam mused, knowing that Michael was thinking the same thing.

"But how would they have known where she was?" Michael pondered.

"Mike," Sam began cautiously, "how well does Fiona know the lawyer she met with?"

"She doesn't, but I think her mother has used this same lawyer for a while now, and she trusts her."

"Oh," Sam sighed. "I thought maybe she could have had a client with a grudge against Fi."

"You know what Sam, that's a good thought. There are a few different lawyers that work in that building. Let's see if one of them knows someone who would recognize Fi. How would you feel about causing a distraction?" Sam grinned confidently.

Less than ten minutes later, Michael was seated in front of the computer at the receptionist's desk, scanning the names of the various lawyers who worked there and their clients. Sam had bought him plenty of time by running into the lobby yelling about a clogged toilet that was overflowing at the other end of the building. Had Michael not been so worried about Fiona, he would have chuckled, imagining how Sam had managed to clog said toilet.

As Michael scanned the clients of a lawyer named Joanna Grady, he came across a name that made his blood run cold. Byron Clarke.

Michael knew who had kidnapped Fiona.

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Michael met up with Sam by an alley adjacent to the law office. His best friend could tell it was bad news from the grim expression on his face.

"What is it, Mikey? Did you find something?" Michael nodded solemnly, and began to explain.

"Just before Fiona came to the US, she got involved with one of the most dangerous offshoots of the IRA. It was essentially a gang of terrorists. She didn't join," he clarified, noticing Sam's horrified expression. "It was more of an undercover thing. She disagreed with their methods and thought if she could get evidence of some of heir crimes she could get Byron Clarke, their leader, arrested."

Sam let out a breath, he was always impressed by what Fiona would do for a cause she believed in.

"Long story short," continued Michael, she turned him in and killed his right hand man in the process. I thought he was still in jail, but apparently he's free."

"And...you think he took Fi?"

"He must have. I saw his name on the firm's client list. He must have been in the building when Fi was. If he saw her I know he'd grab her. She destroyed his organization and his life. He'll be out for revenge until the day he dies."

"Well, brother," said Sam, rubbing his forehead. We'll just have to make sure that day comes sooner than he thinks."

When Michael and Sam got back to their car, Michael used one of his burner phones to call Sean. He explained who he believed had taken Fiona and relayed the address he had seen next to Clarke's name. Michael asked Sean if he and his brothers would search the area surrounding the address while Michael and Sam checked out the house. Sean was a but reluctant to let Michael lead the search, and warned that the rest of the Glenannes wouldn't be happy, but eventually agreed. He had seen enough proof when he had visited Miami that Fiona was safe in the American spy's hands.

Sam began driving to Clarke's place while Michael called his own house to check in with Jesse. Jesse wished them good luck and assured him that Charlie was doing well, but wanted them to come home soon. The drive didn't take more than twenty minutes, and soon Michael and Sam were sneaking into the terrorist's dingy house. When they were certain that no one was home, they began rifling through the junk on Clarke's desk and counters, trying to find anything that could lead them to where Fiona had been taken.

Fifteen minutes later they still hadn't found anything promising. Michael was ready to scream in frustration when Sam said, "Well, this could be something."

"What did you find Sam?" Michael questioned eagerly.

"It looks like a bill for a storage unit. I think the address is nearby. Do you think that's where he's keeping her?"

"It had better be, because that's where we're going."

Michael jumped into the driver's seat and drove at a breakneck speed, following the directions that Sam gave him. Twenty minutes later Michael slowed to a stop in front of rows of garage-sized storage containers.

"What was the number again, Sam?"  
"Seventeen. I assume you want me to keep an eye out while you go in." Michael nodded curtly. Then he remembered that they weren't the only team members on this mission.

"Sam, call Sean and tell him to round up his brothers and bring them here. We might need them."

"Sure thing, Mikey. I'll be right behind you."

As Michael approached storage unit that was his best hope for finding Fiona, he felt a jolt of adrenaline run through his veins. This was always he most nerve-wracking part of rescue missions, particularly when the one being rescued was Fiona. And this time she wasn't just the love of his life. She was his partner in raising their nephew. He needed her to be okay. Not only for himself, but also for Charlie.

When he reached the entrance to the unit, he was relieved to see that the door was open a crack, allowing him to see and hear a bit of what was going on inside. His relief quickly turned to horror when he saw Fiona chained to a chair against the back wall of the container, blood dripping from a large gash on her forehead, her left ankle twisted at an unnatural angle. A large man, whom he assumed was Byron Clarke, was seated to Fiona's left, cleaning blood off of a smooth dagger. Michael felt as though he could throw up right then and there but knew he didn't have the time. Instead, he grabbed the smallest block of C4 that he had in his bag and attached a detonator. He placed the miniature explosive just outside the garage door. He knew the explosion would be small enough that it wouldn't hurt Fiona or Clarke. It was simply meant to form an entrance for Michael as well as a distraction.

The former spy pulled out one of the guns he had hidden behind his back and pushed the button on the remote. As soon as he heard the bang he was running into the storage unit. Neither Clarke nor Fiona were knocked out, and upon seeing Michael the terrorist ran towards Fiona and inserted a syringe full of brown liquid into her neck.

Michael shot him before he could push the stopper all the way down and ran to Fiona to remove the needle from her neck. He heard Sam's voice approaching the blown-off door, asking frantically if they were okay. Michael shook his head.

"I'm fine, but Fi-" he choked on his words "-she's not okay. We need to get her to a hospital." Michael used his gun to shoot open the lock that was attached to the chains binding Fiona. He lifted her as carefully as he could, wincing as she screamed in pain.

"I'm sorry Fi, I'll be more careful of your ankle!"

As Michael began carrying her to the car she screamed again and again. He finally stopped when they were a good distance away from the wreckage, hoping that being still for a moment would ease her pain. It only seemed to make it worse however, as she screamed again.

"It hurts! Michael, make it stop, please!" she begged with, tears cascading down her cheeks.

Michael was beside himself. He had always admired Fiona's high tolerance for pain. So why was a cut and a broken bone making her cry out in agony? He looked down at the blood trickling down her neck and remembered the syringe and the vial he had seen on the table.

"Sam!" he yelled frantically. "There should be a vial and syringe back there. We need to bring it to the hospital so they know what Clarke gave her!"

Sam ran back to the storage unit and Michael turned to see three mismatched cars speeding towards them. He held Fiona closer ready to shield her to the end, until he recognized the men inside the cars.

Colin Glenanne got out of his car first. He was normally the calmest of Fiona's siblings, but at that moment he looked like he was about to explode.

"What the hell is goin' on? Wha'd ya do ta her?" he shouted.

James, the eldest, followed close behind. "What's wrong wit' me sister? You let 'er go righ' now McBride!"

Michael only gripped his lover tighter, feeling as though each groan of pain she let out was slicing through his soul. "I don't know what happened!" he tried to explain. "I think Clarke injected her with some sort of toxin. She needs to get to a hospital!"

"She won' be goin' ta any damn hospital McBride!" Liam had joined his brothers. Michael responded with a murderous glare that made the youngest brother back away a few steps.

"There's a clinic in tha next county. They'll use discretion, you can trust 'em," said Colin, always the voice of reason.

"We'll take it from 'ere, McBride," cut in James, reaching out to grab Fiona, who was now only whimpering and writhing in pain.

"NO!" Michael shouted forcefully.

"You listen 'ere ya bastard. This's our sister and we ca' take care o' 'er. You've done nothin' but put 'er in danger since tha momen' ya met 'er!" Michael couldn't argue with that, but he still refused to relinquish his hold on Fiona.

"She needs me!" he shouted desperately.

As if to prove his point, Fiona's body convulsed in another wave of pain, causing her to call out for Michael in a pained voice. None of the three Glenanne brothers looked pleased, but they allowed Michael to enter Liam's SUV with Fiona draped across his lap.

The drive to the clinic was only about forty-five minutes, but it seemed much longer to Michael. He never wanted to see Fiona suffer, and his inability to lessen her pain made him feel totally useless. His feelings were multiplied by a steady stream of derisive comments from Liam that ranged from "Yer a lyin' bastard; I should've killed ya tha moment ya laid eyes on me sister" to "If she dies, am gonna make ya wish ya died with 'er."

Michael didn't bother to explain to his girlfriend's brother that there was nothing that could make him wish for death more than a lifeless Fiona. Instead he opted for whispering words of comfort into the woman's ear and running his hands soothingly along the length of her body, trying to lessen her misery. About twenty minutes into the ride, Fiona was no longer moaning in pain, and had succumbed to sleep, although her muscles would still twitch involuntarily every few minutes. Michael shifted so that her head was cradled on his lap, and stroked her temple, which was crusty with partially dried blood. Just after Liam had announced that they were five minutes from the clinic, Fiona woke up and looked at Michael, pain and confusion etched on her face.

"Mi-chael? Why are-" all of a sudden she remembered. "Byron Clarke! He saw me! 'M sorry...should've been more careful."

"No Fi," Michael reassured, "it wasn't your fault. We never should have come back here. When you're better we'll go somewhere else-" Fiona cut him off.

"No, please...I want to stay here." Michael sighed and shook his head. "We have a home, and Charlie...I don't want to uproot him again. Please, Michael," she was begging now, "I'll be more careful, I'll never go to Dublin alone again. I promise."

To say that Michael was unnerved would have been an understatement. In all the years he had known Fiona he had never once seen her beg. Not for him to help her with a job or leave the CIA, not even for her life. So as she lay on his lap, still bleeding from her head and ankle, pleading for the life he desired just as much as she, he had no choice but to bow his head and vow, "Anything you want Fi."

As Liam glanced at the couple in the rearview mirror, he felt a pang of regret at the words he had spoken earlier. He still believed McBride was scum, but he couldn't deny the bond his sister had forged with the traitor. He parked in the spot nearest to the clinic entrance and held open the door as Michael carried Fiona into the waiting room. Two nurses were waiting by a stretcher and went to help Michael lower Fiona onto it. Liam guessed that James or Colin had called ahead. The Glenanne men and their wives were regular patients of this clinic, and had a mutually beneficial relationship with the staff. They helped with any security problems that arose, and got medical care and privacy in return.

Michael followed Fiona's stretcher down the hall and Liam didn't try to stop him. He still didn't agree with it, but he knew whom Fiona wanted by her side.

As Fiona was rolled down the hallway and into a large examination room, Michael kept a steady hold on her hand. He wanted to be sure Fiona knew he was with her. She had passed out as soon as a nurse had administered a strong painkiller, and Michael was relieved that she was resting peacefully. He stepped away long enough for the nurses to clean her head wound and look at her ankle, then stood beside her again when the doctor entered the room.

"What happened here?" she asked looking concerned at Fiona's state.

Michael hesitated, trying to figure out how much to reveal, then decided on a half truth. "There was an explosion. Some shrapnel cut her head and landed on her ankle. Oh, and she's been injected with a small amount of some sort of toxin," he finished, pointing towards her neck. He knew immediately that that last piece of information made it clear that more than an explosion had harmed Fiona, but the doctor needed to know.

She looked at him suspiciously then said, "The Glenanne brothers brought you here, didn't they?" Michael nodded.

"We're...friends of theirs."

The doctor simply nodded and continued examining her patient. Apparently the Glenanne name was as good as gold in this clinic. "I'm going to have an x-ray done of her ankle and chest, and we'll do a tox screen as well." She paused for a moment then spoke again. "The needle used to inject her...was it...clean?"  
Michael felt another wave of panic and nausea crash over him.

"I didn't- I don't know," he admitted. "My friend has the vial and needle, if you can test it."

The doctor nodded seriously. "That should work, but it will take about four weeks to get the results. I'll start administering antibiotics and antiretrovirals right away, in case of HIV exposure." She nodded curtly and exited the room, leaving Michael in a more anxious state than when she had arrived.

Soon after the doctor left, Liam and James came running into the room, with Sean on their heels. James approached Michael, fist clenched, as if he might strike at any moment.

"Hold on James!" ordered Sean. "It won' do Fiona any good to have 'er man as injured as she is."

James grunted and relaxed his hand but didn't look away from Michael.

"Fiona's man," James scoffed. "Ya mean tha man who lied to 'er, left 'er heartbroken, then nearly got har killed ten times over when she wa' in tha states."

Michael looked ashamed, but defended himself. "It was her choice, I never made her-"

"Shut up McBride! Or whatever yer name is!" James was notorious for his temper and Michael couldn't help but cringe at his tone. "It's time fer ya to leave! Get out and don' bother comin' back!"

"I. Will. Not. Leave. Her." Michael voice took on a dangerous tone.

Sean stepped between the two men, hands raised. "James! I know you're upset wit' Michael, but we have ta do what's best fer Fi. I don' want him here either, but Fiona does, so jus' let him be James!"

The eldest Glenanne realized he was outnumbered and gritted his teeth, but didn't ask Michael to leave again. The silence in the room persisted until Fiona let out a groan of pain and all eyes turned towards her.

"Michael," she said, gripping his hand weakly. "Where am I?"

"You're at a clinic Fi," he hastened to explain. "Byron Clarke attacked you in Dublin and took you to his storage unit. It looks like he broke your ankle, but you're going to be fine."

"It hurts," Fiona winced.

"What does, Fi? Your ankle?"

"No, everywhere." She shifted uncomfortably. Fiona's screams when he found her still echoed in his mind. He was glad that whatever Clarke had injected her with seemed to be wearing off.

"You were injected with something Fi. I don't know what it was but, you were in so much pain," he swallowed. Fiona nodded, beginning to remember.

"Where's Charlie?" she asked suddenly, guilty she hadn't thought of him sooner.

"He's fine; he's at home with-"

"Who tha hell is Charlie?" James interrupted. Fiona turned her head towards her brother. She hadn't realized the three were in the room.

"If you got me sister pregnant and didn't have the stones ta marry har there'll be hell ta pay ya mark me words!" Now Liam was beginning to lose his cool.

Michael set the record straight immediately. "Charlie is my _brother's_ son. My brother died and Charlie has no one but me, and Fiona." Fiona's brothers calmed considerably.

"Michael, could you get me some water?" Fiona asked pointedly. Michael nodded and walked out into the hallway, leaving the Glenannes alone. Fiona immediately motioned for her brothers to come closer and they huddled in around her.

"I know you've been giving Michael a hard time," she growled. Her voice was weak but the threat was clear. "If you know what's good for you, you'll show him respect from now on. If it comes down to it I'll choose him over any of you, so behave!" Fiona didn't want to start a war with her brothers, but she refused to ignore their mistreatment of her long-time lover.

The men knew better than to argue with their sister when she put her foot down, so they merely rolled their eyes and sat back down.

"And you'd best pass the message along to Colin too. Where is he, anyway?"

"He wen' back home ta let mum know yer okay," Sean answered just as Michael reentered the room with the male nurse who had helped bring Fiona in earlier.

"We're ready to take you for x-rays now ma'am."

Fiona nodded then turned back to her brothers. "Thanks for helping find me. Michael and I will be fine here. I'll keep in touch."

The Glenanne men stepped up one by one to hug her, and then walked past Michael out the door. Liam and James glared at him, but resisted making any unkind remarks.

While Fiona was in the x-ray room, Michael went out to the waiting room and saw Sam sitting in an armchair, reading a parenting magazine.

"Really Sam?" Michael raised his eyebrows.

"Hey, if you two are gonna be raising a kid, I'd better read up so I can give you advice when you inevitably ask."

Michael grinned gratefully. "Speaking of the kid, have you heard from Jesse?"

"I called to check in twenty minutes ago to tell them the danger is over and Fi will be fine. She will be fine, right Mikey?"

Michael nodded happily. "Yeah, she's just getting a few x-rays and they think she'll be able to go home today."

"That's great! What did they say about the injection?"

Michael's face darkened and he explained what the doctor had said about Fiona's small risk of exposure to various diseases if the needle was unsterile.

"So you have to wait a month to find out? I'm sorry Mike, I hope things turn out okay." Michael thanked his friend and went to catch up with Fiona, who was being wheeled back to her room.

Four hours later, Fiona had been released from the clinic with a cast on her ankle, two taped ribs, and five bottles of various pills. She looked much better than when she had arrived, and after Sam parked the car in the driveway she hobbled up the front steps with negligible help from Michael. The light coming from the window looked so welcoming, and so did Charlie's face, beaming at the sight of his guardians safe and sound.

"You're home!" he yelled excitedly. "Now can you make chocolate chip pancakes Auntie Fi?"

Fiona laughed and settled herself gingerly onto the couch. "I don't know Charlie. I had kind of a long day."

"I'll make them if you help me," Michael compromised, wanting to give Fiona time to rest.

"We'll go get your car from Dublin Fi," said Jesse.

"You don't have to do that now," she replied. "You've already done so much. I can't believe you came all the way from Miami for us!"

"Of course Fi, you'd do the same for us...I hope!" Sam teased.

"We'll be back in a few hours," said Jesse. "Save some chocolate pancakes for us!"

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I hope you liked the chapter...please review!


	7. Chapter 7

Hello! I wanted to say thank you to everyone for the great reviews! I got some ridiculously wonderful ones this time, and they made me feel so good. Many of them were guests so I couldn't respond but I wanted to thank you for your kindness.

This is the extra-long final chapter. I hope you enjoy it!

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Almost as soon as Sam and Jesse were out the door Fiona had fallen asleep on the couch, lulled by the sound of her boyfriend and nephew cooking in the kitchen.

By the time Fiona awoke, all sounds in the house had ceased, save for the ticking of the grandfather clock. She looked around, relieved that she was safe at home, and saw Michael sleeping in the armchair to her right.

_He did it again_, she told herself, reluctant as always to admit that she had lost control of the situation. She thought back to what had transpired in Dublin, trying to figure out how she had been so easily captured. The Irishwoman supposed it was because she had been lost in thought as she exited the office building and walked along the sidewalk. She had been reminiscing about the history she and Michael shared in that city, and all the mayhem they had caused, and simply hadn't heard or seen her captor ...until he had pulled her into an alley and smashed her over the head, knocking her out immediately.

When she had woken up in that storage container and seen Byron Clarke smiling at her nastily, she knew she was in trouble. Many people had reasons to want to torture and kill her, but Clarke was one of the worst. She had squirmed subtly, trying to free herself from the chains that bound her, but he had noticed and stomped on her ankle hard enough the smash the bones. Everything after that had been a blur of pain and hopelessness, until Michael had blown a hole in the door and earned her love all over again.

_Not that he needs to earn it_, she thought, with a crooked smile, _it's his __whether he deserves it or not._ The man in question awoke suddenly looking around for danger until his eyes settled on his girlfriend.

"Everything's okay Michael," she assured him, before he could ask.

"Is it, Fi? Byron Clarke could have told anyone that you're in Ireland. How do we know people aren't out there looking for you right now?"

"I suppose we don't," Fiona admitted. "But Byron never did have many allies, besides his brother. And I got the sense that he wasn't about to share his chance to get revenge on me."

Her reasoning didn't seem to comfort Michael, but before he could continue their conversation, Fiona shouted "Bowl!" and put her hand over her mouth, turning slightly green. Michael reacted quickly, and managed to hold the mixing bowl, that was sitting on the coffee table, in front of Fiona's face just before she vomited.

When his girlfriend was finished vacating her stomach, Michael went to empty and wash the bowl. He returned and sat next to her, rubbing her back to stave off the uselessness he knew she must be feeling.

"Michael, I'd really like to stay in Ireland. I know it's not the safest place to be, but my brothers will be looking out for us. And I know they'll throw a few easy jobs our way, so we'll be able to make a decent living." She wasn't begging this time, but she was trying her best to convince him to stay in her homeland. Michael decided to put her mind at ease.

"Fiona," he began, taking her hands in his, "you stuck by me in Miami, no matter how dangerous it got. Now it's my turn to follow you around. If Ireland is your home, then it's mine too. Now take your medicine and let's go to bed. For once Fiona did as she was told.

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Fiona hated using crutches. Not only was it a tactical nightmare, but it made her rely on Michael far more than was good for his ego. She didn't mind having him prepare every meal or take over all the cleaning responsibilities. What she did mind was needing his help ascending the stairs, bathing, and getting changed. He took far too much pleasure in her neediness. Although to be fair, they both took pleasure in the tasks that required clothing removal.

The first two weeks after Fiona's capture had been the hardest. She was in pain nearly all the time, but avoided painkillers, taking them only occasionally when Michael insisted. The antiretrovirals were worse, but she knew she had to take those. They made her feel nauseated and gave her headaches. She hated for Michael and Charlie to see her like that.

Michael was patient and supportive, but the fear that she saw in his eyes every time he looked at her made her feel as though she were dying. She could also tell that Charlie was worried about her. He had been acting up since she had come home, saying "no" more often than usual and whining about every little thing. Fiona assumed he was looking for attention, but she simply didn't have the energy or physical ability to play with him.

Sam and Jesse had been a huge help for a few days, but they had needed to return to Miami. They promised to cover their tracks and keep an ear out to make sure everyone in the states still thought their friends were dead. Sam told them to keep an eye out for the package containing their possessions and new identities, which he would send in a few weeks.

Finally, after over three weeks of sitting around the house watching the autumn get colder and colder, Fiona lost her patience. Charlie had just gone to bed, reluctantly, and Michael was standing at the sink, washing dishes. Fiona sneaked up behind him -as much as one could sneak on crutches- and whispered in a dangerous tone, "I have to get out of here, Michael Westen."

Michael's face turned as white as a ghost and he whipped around to face Fiona, grabbing her arms desperately. She realized at once that he had misunderstood her comment and hurried to correct him.

"I mean the house, not Ireland. I'm not leaving you...yet," she kidded, feeling guilty for scaring him. Michael took a moment to calm his racing heart and nodded for Fiona to continue explaining. "Charlie's getting stir crazy and we're all going to need winter clothes. I never did get to go shopping when I was in Dublin." Michael placed his hand on Fiona's shoulder and shook his head slowly.

"I'm not asking permission, Michael. I'm telling you that Charlie and I are going shopping tomorrow. You can come if you want. None of us can stay cooped up here forever."

"Last time you left you were attacked; I won't let that happen again."

"Last time I was in _Dublin_! We won't even have to leave County Wexford to go to the mall. No one here knows us...it's why we're here and not near my family!"

Michael didn't look convinced. "It's just not safe yet Fi. As soon as our new IDs have arrived and you're fully recovered we'll all go shopping. I promise."

Michael could tell that wasn't good enough for Fiona when he saw the flash of anger and spark of challenge in her eyes. Before he could say anything else, she had made a fist and rammed it into his side. He bent over then glared up at her.

"Fi! Do not start! I am too old and you still have broken ribs!" Fiona answered him with a sultry smile...and a head-butt.

"Fiona!" Michael turned to flee from the kitchen but she balanced on her crutches and kicked him hard with her good leg, causing him to stumble. He heard a thump behind him and turned around to see that Fiona had landed flat on her butt. Apparently she had lost her balance and tipped over. He couldn't help but laugh at the stunned look on her face, which only made her madder.

Fiona landed a final kick to Michael's ankle and when he bent down to rub the spot, she pounced on him, causing him to fall flat on his back. He started to flip her off of him, beginning to enjoy their old game, but when he saw her wince he let go immediately.

"Fi? You okay?" he asked, concerned.

"I'm fine Michael." She wiggled her hips tantalizingly against his. "More than fine, actually."

She planted open-mouthed kisses up his neck, teasing him until he couldn't resist covering her mouth with his own. When the passionate kisses ceased to quench the fire between them, Michael stood up, gathering Fiona into his arms, crutches forgotten. He took her eagerly up the stairs to their bedroom, and for once, Fiona didn't mind being carried.

Michael awoke early the next morning to the sounds of drawers being opened and then slammed shut again. He groaned and rolled over to glare at Fiona.

"Do you have to make that much noise?"

"Charlie's already awake," she defended, as if Charlie were the only member of the household who required sleep.

"Where did you put the money that was left over from our trip?"

"It's inside the frame of that painting above the dresser." He pointed to the wall behind her.

She removed the painting from the wall and grabbed all the cash, shoving it into her small purse. "Why do you need all that?" asked Michael, sitting up. He was fully awake now.

"I'm going shopping Michael, remember? To get us all some winter clothes."

Michael waited a moment before speaking, trying to compose himself. He knew it would do no good to get upset. Finally he spoke in a strained voice. "I remember Fi. I remember telling you it wasn't a good idea. Didn't you hear me?"

"Of course I heard you. And I took what you said into account." She pulled on her socks and looked up into his eyes. "See you in a few hours!"

"Wait! Fiona, wait!" shouted Michael, struggling to pull on his own clothes. "I'm coming with you!"

She poked her head back into the room, leaning against her crutches. "Oh no, Michael. It might be too dangerous for you."

Michael rolled his eyes at her sarcasm. "Just - I'll be right there Fi." He hated how much he loved that woman.

Fiona hobbled down the stairs and into the living room, checking to make sure Charlie was ready to leave. He was already dressed and fed, so Fiona asked him to go to the bathroom before they left.

"I don't hafta go," he said quickly before turning back to his cars.

"I need you to try," repeated Fiona. The last time she had taken Charlie's word about the state of his bladder, he had peed through his pull-up and needed to be changed in the middle of the night.

"Charlie, go to the bathroom so we can go to the mall," she tried to coerce him.

"I don't wanna go to the mall. I wanna stay here with Uncle Michael."

"Uncle Michael is going to the mall too," Fiona informed him, just as the man in question entered the room.

"Fi, let's just not go today. Charlie doesn't want to go, I don't want to go..."

"I don't care if you want to go or not! We need clothes, we need groceries, and we need to get out of this house!"

Michael tightened his jaw and Charlie's eyes widened. Fiona put a hand to her head and took a breath. She felt badly for yelling, but why did they have to make things so difficult? A wave of nausea rippled through her, a side-effect of the anti-HIV meds she had nearly finished, but she ignored it.

"I'm sorry. It's just, we need to get this done sooner rather than later. You want to be able to play in the snow, don't you?" Charlie nodded vigorously. "Then we need to get you a snow suit, okay? Why don't you go pee and then we can get going."

Charlie finally abandoned the cars he was playing with and ran off to the bathroom, leaving Michael and Fiona alone.

"What are you smiling for?" Fiona asked testily, seeing the amused look on Michael's face.

"Nothing." He tried to brush it off but she continued looking at him for an explanation.

"It's just that you sounded like, well, like a mom." He half expected her to give him an uppercut to the jaw, but she simply chuckled and kissed him.

"I've been called worse."

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When the family arrived at their destination, they were all a bit giddy to be around civilization again. Fiona and Charlie seemed relaxed and friendly, while Michael took a colder and more intimidating approach. Fiona could tell that he was in spy mode: looking for concealed weapons and planning escape routes in every store they entered.

Although she wished her boyfriend could be a bit more normal, she felt safe knowing he was watching out for them. It was true that they were highly unlikely to run into enemies in the Gorey Shopping Centre, but it was still a possibility.

Fiona turned her focus back to the challenge at hand: shopping with a three-year-old. She had always prided herself in being an excellent shopper, but that had been when she was on her own or had Michael or a friend along. Charlie threw a wrench into the process with his impatience and inability to stop himself from touching everything.

Finally, Fiona ordered Michael to take their nephew outside. He refused until she agreed to stay where he could see her through the window. She was growing tired of his overprotectiveness, but understood that he had been shaken when she had gone missing less than a month before.

Later that afternoon, after four hours of shopping, lunch, and a bribe of ice cream for Charlie, the family headed home. They stopped by the grocery store on the way so they could stock up on food. As they walked down the candy aisle, which was fully stocked for Halloween, Charlie made a comment that nearly broke his aunt and uncle's hearts.

"Let's get some of those for Mommy," he was pointing excitedly at a bag of Almond Joys. "They're her favorite."

Unsure of how to explain the truth to Charlie, Michael muttered something about not being able to mail candy to the US, and Fiona turned to stare intently at some Milky Ways, trying to hide the sorrow on her face from the little boy.

Later that same night, after Charlie had fallen asleep, Fiona and Michael went down to the small basement to hang the punching bag that neither Michael nor Fiona had been able to resist buying that day.

"Do you think we should tell Ruth that Charlie is still alive?"

"Fi," said Michael softly. "I think that'll just cause more problems for us, and for Charlie. What if she insists on taking him back? Or tells someone we're alive? I know you want to do the right thing, but this is a really foggy situation."

Fiona sighed. "I guess you're right, but I hate to think that Ruth is out there somewhere, thinking her son is dead. She already lost Nate, I don't want her to think she's all alone. Nobody deserves that."

Michael once again marveled at Fiona's role as his moral compass. Ever since he'd met her she had led him down the right path, or at least tried to. He supposed that was why she had been able to save him from himself so many times, when no one else could. _She was right when we were on that roof and she's right now too._

He looked at her with admiration in his eyes. "Let me call Jesse tomorrow and ask him to look into Ruth's situation. Maybe he and Sam can send her an anonymous message or something, so she won't have to worry anymore."

"Thanks, Michael," whispered Fiona, leaning into his ear. "Now let's test out our new toy, shall we? You hold the bag first." The two didn't get to sleep until after midnight for the second day in a row.

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For the next week, Michael got his wish of not leaving their property. With winter fast approaching there was plenty to do around the house. Between raking the last of the fallen leaves and putting plastic on all of the old drafty windows, Michael barely had time to miss the Miami sun. He did however take a moment to thank Fiona for her foresight in buying winter clothes. His new wool sweaters and thick socks kept away the late-October chill.

One day, while Michael was busy shrink-wrapping the windows, he heard the house phone ring. He let Fiona get it, and was unable to hear her side of the conversation over the hair dryer he was using to shrink the plastic over the window. When she hung up, Michael turned the dryer off and said, "Who was that?"

"It was my mother," she smiled. "She said our packages from Sam have arrived. She's going to bring them down here the day after tomorrow."

"Perfect," Michael smiled. "Do you think she could stay with Charlie so that I can take you to the clinic to have your cast removed?"

"I already asked and she said she'd be happy to."

Two days later, Charlie was bouncing off the walls, excited for the arrival of his Maimeo, which Fiona had explained was the Irish word for grandmother. When Mrs. Glenanne finally arrived, she embraced her daughter for a long time. The two hadn't seen each other in nearly a decade, so to finally be able to hold each other was a welcome comfort.

After Mrs. Glenanne had released her daughter, wiping tears from her eyes, she turned to take a look at the now quiet and shy Charlie, who was hiding behind his uncle's leg.

"You must be Charlie," she said in a kind voice. "We're going to spend some time together today, is that okay?" Charlie nodded but didn't leave his uncle's side.

Mrs. Glennane looked up at Michael, who smiled cautiously, saying, "It's wonderful to see you again."

The last time he had seen the woman before him, he had still called himself Michael McBride. He had no idea how the elder Glenanne would feel about the American spy who had lied to her daughter again and again, and prevented her from being able to go home for so many years.

He needn't have worried however, because Mrs. Glenanne simply hugged him and said, "Thank you fer taking care o' me Fiona fer all these years."

Michael wasn't sure how to respond to that and almost came clean about what his pathetic version of "taking care" of Fiona had been, but Fiona interrupted his thoughts.

"Michael, why don't you bring the boxes in while Charlie and I show Maimeo around?"  
Michael did as he was told, and by the time he had carried in the third heavy box, Fiona was ready to leave.

The two said their goodbyes to Mrs. Glenanne and Charlie, who was loudly blowing the penny-whistle his new grandmother had given him. It warmed Fiona's heart to see her nephew and mother getting along so well, and she turned to Michael with a happy grin on her face. He tried to smile back at her, but she could tell it was fake. He seemed preoccupied by something.

"What's wrong, Michael? Wasn't it nice seeing mum again?"

"Of course it was," he agreed offhandedly.

"So then why do you look so worried? Charlie's in good hands. Mum's raised seven children and nine grandchildren already. She knows what she's doing."

"That's not it."

"Then what _is_ it?" Fiona was already growing tired of Michael's brooding and they'd barely been driving for five minutes.

"I'm worried about you. I'm worried about your test results."

Fiona had pushed her possible HIV exposure out of her mind, since there was only a tiny chance that she would actually contract the virus, and she wasn't normally one to obsess over things she couldn't control. She knew Michael, on the other hand, had probably thought about her upcoming blood test every day for the past six weeks.

"Michael, chances are I'm fine. I finished the meds and I've been feeling great ever since. And whatever was in that needle hasn't given me any trouble since I've been home."

Michael managed to throw her a more convincing smile and reached over to place his hand over hers. Fiona had still not gotten used to Michael's recent displays of affection. They had always been more than comfortable sharing physical space, but with the exception of near death experiences, they had never been the type of couple who held hands.

All that had changed when Michael had dragged Fiona from the roof after he shot Sonya. From that moment on they were going to live together or die together. Michael had tried to save Fiona from his fate so many times, but he was finally able to accept that just as he would run into a burning building for her, she would never leave him to die alone.

When they arrived at the clinic, the nurse called them in immediately, recognizing them as friends of the Glenanne family. They waited in one of the smaller examination rooms, where Fiona's blood was drawn and her cast was removed. When the nurse left to get the doctor, Michael walked over and stood in front of Fiona, who was seated on the examination table, legs dangling freely.

"How's your ankle?" he asked, looking into her eyes. She answered him wordlessly with a playful kick to his shin.

"You tell me," she grinned at him. "Now stop being so overprotective!" She liked this new side of him, but she wasn't about to let him know it. There was a knock on the door and the doctor entered the room, holding a clipboard.

"It's good to see you two again. You look like you're feeling better Fiona."

She did a brief examination and then spoke again. "Your ankle seems to have healed completely, and the head wound looks excellent. Did you complete the full month of antiretrovirals?"

Fiona nodded and Michael added, "It wasn't easy."

"No," agreed the doctor. "Some people stop taking them after a week or two, but I'm glad you stuck with it."

The doctor went on to explain that they would call with the results of Fiona's blood test in a few days, and Michael jotted down their house phone number for her.

Just before she turned to leave, the doctor glanced at her clipboard and said, "Oh! I almost forgot. It seems as though the liquid injected into your neck was some sort of household cleaner. There was such a small amount that your liver managed to filter it out. Had you been given a larger dose, you could easily have died," she finished somberly.

Michael and Fiona thanked the doctor and sat for a moment, counting their blessings, until Michael broke the silence. "We still have some cash left over from our shopping trip. How I take you someplace nice for lunch?"

Fiona beamed at him. "Are you sure it's not too risky?" she teased.

He looked at her with absolute conviction. "Nothing is too risky when it comes to you."

The couple enjoyed their lunch immensely. They hadn't eaten in a restaurant since they arrived in Ireland, and they were savoring both the traditional Irish food and the quiet, romantic atmosphere.

After looking around to be sure there was no one listening in on their conversation, Michael took a deep breath and began speaking. "Fiona, I know I haven't made your life easy, and I will never be able to make up for all the pain I've caused you over the years." Fiona began to interject but he held up a hand to silence her and continued.

"I'm not good at this, and I can't promise I'll ever be better, but I will always take care of you. I will always choose you. So, what I'm trying to say is-" he got down on one knee and Fiona let out a gasp at the ascher-cut diamond ring he held out for her "-marry me?"

Fiona was speechless but nodded vigorously, tears filling her eyes. She allowed Michael to slide the ring onto her finger, and the two finished their lunch with wide smiles adorning their faces.

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When the newly engaged cpuple arrived back home later that afternoon, Charlie came running up to them, shouting about all the fun things he and Maimeo had done. Mrs. Glenanne followed behind, tired but happy-looking. She noticed the new ring on Fiona's finger almost immediately. Hardly able to contain her excitement, she hugged her daughter and her daughter's new fiancé over and over again.

"It'll be a small ceremony," clarified Fiona, "just family and a couple friends."

"All that matters is that yer happy Fiona. I'll be thar, an' I'll make sure yer brothers come, an' keep their mouths shut," she promised.

Michael and Fiona thanked her and all four entered the house, where they enjoyed each other's company and a homemade supper.

The next morning, for the very first time, Fiona woke up in the arms of her fiancé. She knew she had belonged to Michael since the day they met, but now she had tangible proof wrapped around her finger. She admired the ring for a long moment, and then shifted on top of Michael and began kissing him awake. As soon as his blue eyes met hers she asked, "Michael, where did you get this ring?"

He took a second to rub the sleep from his eyes before answering, "I had Sam pack it in with our things."

Fiona's head jerked up. "Are you saying Sam picked out my ring?"

"No! No, I had it hidden in a storage locker back in Miami for the past couple years."

"Years? When did you buy it?" Fiona couldn't believe she'd never suspected a thing.

"When you were in jail. I didn't know if I'd actually give it to you, but I wanted to buy it. It just felt...right."

Fiona returned to kissing him lazily for a few more minutes, then stopped suddenly.  
"Did your mom know?"

"About the ring? No, I didn't want her to make a big deal about it. She always pressured us. If she'd known I had even thought about proposing...well I guess she won't know now."

Fiona rubbed her nose softly against Michael's. "She would have been so happy. And so proud of you."

At her words Michael's tears overflowed down the surface of his face, and Fiona's followed suit. They lay together in the early morning light, finally addressing the grief they had bottled up inside. Just as their quiet sobs had begun to subside, the phone beside their bed rang. Fiona reached over and answered it cautiously. After she had listened to the voice on the other end, she smiled broadly, thanked the caller, and hung up.

"That was the clinic. They were able to rush the test results and they came back negative for HIV!"

Michael wrapped his arms around Fiona joyfully as the last bit of anxiety in his chest dissolved into nothing.

That day was one of the happiest the family had shared in a while. They spent the morning unpacking the large boxes Sam had mailed, and felt much more at home now that they were surrounded by familiar belongings. Their IDs were complete and convincing, and they practiced answering to their new last name, Finn.

Just when they thought the day couldn't get any better, Charlie pointed out the window and jumped up and down. "Snow! It's snowing! Look at the snow!"

Fiona, Michael, and Charlie all bundled up so they could explore the world of white. It wasn't much more than a dusting, but it somehow made their home feel even more peaceful. When the sky began to darken, he three snow covered Finns went inside to get changed and eat a warm supper.

After the dishes had been washed, dried, and put away, the three of them settled on the couch in front of the crackling fireplace. Charlie rested his head on Michael's lap and fell asleep while Fiona was making tea.

When she came back with two warm mugs, Michael asked her if he should move Charlie to his bed. His fiancee shook her head no, and snuggled into his side.

Michael couldn't remember ever being this content. He had always been happiest when Fiona was around, but there was something so powerful about knowing that they were together for the long haul. He thought back on how his life had changed since he'd been burned. He was glad Charlie wouldn't be able to see how narrow-minded he had been back then. _But he's sure to ask, at some point_, Michael reminded himself. _He_ _deserves to know how his father and grandmother died, and what they died for. What will I tell him? _he wondered.

As he always did when he was in need of guidance, he asked Fiona, and she gave him the answer he was looking for.

"Tell him the truth," she answered simply.

"But where do I start?"

"Start with 'My name is Michael Westen. I used to be a spy.'"

As Michael planted a lingering kiss on Fiona's lips, he was reminded once again just how lucky he was.

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That's it for that story. I hoped you liked it. Thank you once again for reading.

I'm in the process of finishing up a few other fics, so keep an eye out for those.

Please review and let me know what you thought!


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